Fatal Love
M
Matthew Prior
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Poor Hal caught his death standing under a spout
Expecting till midnight when Nan would come out;
But fatal his patience, as cruel the dame,
And cursed was the weather that quench'd the man's flame.
Whoe'er thou art that reads these moral lines,
Make love at home, and go to bed betimes.
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
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