Victorian Stalker
Victorian Stalker
Tis but a dagger that I wear
No need your eyes to tarry there
Tis true my cup doth overflow
There dwells the happiness I show
Hither hath no dearth of joy
Durst thou besought this wayward goy
Henceforth wither thou walketh out
No twain betwixt will come about
Yet, cometh, Maiden, I beseech
Naught hath I’ve spoken wrought a breech!
6/26/12
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