Translating The Language of the Heart
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Original Modern Poetry
Monday, June 20, 2011
False Though She Be - by William Congreve
False though she be to me and love,
I'll ne'er pursue revenge;
For still the charmer I approve,
Though I deplore her change.
In hours of bliss we oft have met:
They could not always last;
And though the present I regret,
I'm grateful for the past.
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