The Self Banished (an excerpt)
It is not that I love you less
Than when before your feet I lay,
But to prevent the sad increase
Of hopeless love, I keep away.
In vain (alas!) for everything
Which I have known belong to you,
Your form does to my fancy bring,
And makes my old wounds bleed anew.
-Edmund Waller (1606 – 1687)
Photo by Nadine Balbeisi