I pray-for fashion's word is out And prayer comes round again- That I may seem, though I die old, A foolish, passionate man.
It is not permitted to a man, who takes up pen or chisel, to seek originality, for passion is his only business, and he cannot but mould or sing after a new fashion because no disaster is like another.
Sweetheart, do not love too long: I loved long and long, And grew to be out of fashion Like an old song.
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