She showed me this today, and I thought how pretty, and how sad, it was.

I'll never turn back on that path now, there are brighter roads ahead, and I never say goodbye twice.

But there is comfort, and poetry! in knowing that somewhere, there are hidden lanes where ex-lovers will always be seventeen; and where the air between us will always be tender, and true.

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"These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph, die like fire and powder,

which, as they kiss, consume."