The Poetry Pages

Love (3)

He was a winter wind,
Concerned with ice and snow,
Dead weeds and unmated birds,
And little of love could know.
-- Robert Frost. Wind And Window Flower.

Thou art to all lost love the best,
The only true plant found,
Wherewith young men and maids distrest,
And left of love, are crown'd.
-- Robert Herrick. To The Willow Tree.

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