THE SAME CONTINUED Do you remember how I laughed at you In the Beaulieu woods, and how I made my peace? It was your thirtieth birthday, and you threw Stones like a school--girl at the chestnut trees. The heavens were light above us and the breeze. Your Corydon and all the merry crew Had wandered to a distance, busier bees Than we, who cared not where the hazels grew. We were alone at last. I had been teasing You with the burden of years left behind. You were too fair to find my wit displeasing, And I too tender to be less than kind. Your pebbles struck me. ``Wretch,`` I cried. The word Entered our hearts that instant like a sword.SourceThe script ran 0.003 seconds.
The script ran 0.003 seconds.