When beauty breaks and falls asunder I feel no grief for it, but wonder. When love, like a frail shell, lies broken, I keep no chip of it for token. I never had a man for friend Who did not know that love must end. I never had a girl for lover Who could discern when love was over. What the wise doubt, the fool believes— Who is it, then, that love deceives?SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
The script ran 0.001 seconds.
