In Black Ink My Love May Still

Affection, Mistress Of Passion, Sways It To The Mood Of What It Likes Or Loathes.

This Night I Hold An Old Accustomed Feast, Whereto I Have Invited Many A Guest, Such As I Love; And You Among The Store, One More, Most Welcome, Makes My Number More.

My Tongue Will Tell The Anger Of My Heart, Or Else My Heart Concealing It Will Break.

When I Got Enough Confidence, The Stage Was Gone. When I Was Sure Of Losing, I Won. When I Needed People The Most, They Left Me. When I Learnt To Dry My Tears, I Found A Shoulder To Cry On. And When I Mastered The Art Of Hating, Somebody Started Loving Me.

I Cannot Speak Your England.