Life, Breath and Hope Abide
When I was dewy-eyed I dreamt of love,
of a kind of love fit for a virgin
for whom romance betrays no vice or sin--
or for God to curse and speak evil of.
But I, rebuked and reviled as from above
by Providence, lost as Misfortunes won;
Having quit all hope for love's boon, I spun
myself astray on the wings of Lust's dove
into the rough lap of a subtle whore,
a strumpet to whom I gave my purity
who mocked me and then grinned with the three-score
more she's had,--I howled, "What cruel irony!"
But so long as life, breath and hope abide,
love will come; and when it comes--it'll provide!
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