Poems (Robert Underwood Johnson)/Curses
CURSES
Fain would I curse thee, sweet unkind!
That thou art fair;
Fain curse my mother, that not blind
She did me bear;
But, no!—each curse would break, not bind,
The heart ye share.
That thou art fair;
Fain curse my mother, that not blind
She did me bear;
But, no!—each curse would break, not bind,
The heart ye share.