It was Spring, the sweet Spring, when first I met with Love. <br />Suddenly I raised my eyes; and he stood there. <br />He was so beautiful, I could not look elsewhere. <br />For joy I could not speak; I gazed but could not move; <br />But all my body trembled, as he spoke and stole, <br />With his voice's wonder, my surrendered soul. <br />Ah, why was there none nigh, to whisper me, Beware?<br /><br />Robert Laurence Binyon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/o-crudelis-amor/
