Ix

=Love, Pride and Forgetfulness=

Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb, Love laboured honey busily. I was the hive and Love the bee, My heart the honey-comb. One very dark and chilly night Pride came beneath and held a light.

The cruel vapours went through all, Sweet Love was withered in his cell; Pride took Love's sweets, and by a spell Did change them into gall; And Memory tho' fed by Pride Did wax so thin on gall, Awhile she scarcely lived at all, What marvel that she died?