But I am like to die before my flower
And lose inheritors for my desire.
O if thou wert mine own, I had this boast;
Therefore I love thee better than thou know'st.
CHAMAN LALL
"THIRTY YEARS AFTER"
It is thirty years since we two parted,
It is thirty unswept, cobweb years
Since, with a look of indifference, in a storm of elegance,