| If you insist, we'll get all mushie...
I said to Love,
"Thou art not young, thou art not fair,
No faery darts, no cherub air,
Nor swan, nor dove
Are thine; but features pitiless,
And iron daggers of distress,"
I said to Love.
[Edited on 17-5-2005 by Flanks] | 
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