jueves, abril 17, 2008

XII

And were you lost, I would be,
Though my name
Rand loudest
On the heavenly fame.

And were you saved,
And I condemned to be
Where you where not,
That self were hell to me.

So we must keep apart,
You there, I here,
Whit just the door ajar
That <> are,
...

ED

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