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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=498156" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Prelude</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=498156" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">How could I love you more? <br>I would give up <br>Even that beauty I have loved too well <br>That I might love you better. <br>Alas, how poor the gifts that lovers give <br>I can but give you of my flesh and strength, <br>I can but give you these few passing days <br>And passionate words that, since our speech began, <br>All lovers whisper in all ladies' ears. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=498156" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I try to think of some one lovely gift<br>No lover yet in all the world has found; <br>I think: If the cold sombre gods <br>Were hot with love as I am <br>Could they not endow you with a star <br>And fix bright youth for ever in your limbs?<br>Could they not give you all things that I lack? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=498156" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">You should have loved a god; I am but dust. <br>Yet no god loves as loves this poor frail dust.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Richard+Aldington">Richard Aldington</a></strong></div>

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