Love.
Love is only root and crop of care, The body’s foe, the heart’s annoy and cause of pleasures rare, The sickness of the mind and fountain of unrest. The gulf of guile, the pit of pain,, of grief the hollow chest; A fiery frost, a flame that frozen is with A heavy burden light to bear, a virtue fraught with vice; It is a worldlike peace, a safety seeing dread, A deep despair annexed to hope, a fancy that is fed, Sweet poison for his taste, a port Charybdis like, A Scylla for his safety, though a lion that is meek.—Turberville.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TS19340720.2.142
Bibliographic details
Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20362, 20 July 1934, Page 8
Word Count
102Love. Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20362, 20 July 1934, Page 8
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