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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536361" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Woman’s Sonnets: X</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536361" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Love, ere I go, forgive me each least wrong,<br>Each trouble I unwittingly have wrought.<br>My heart, my life, my tears to thee belong;<br>Yet have I erred, maybe, through too fond thought.<br>One sin, most certainly, I need to atone:<br>The sin of loving thee while yet unwooed.<br>Mine only was this wrong, this guilt alone.<br>The woman tempted thee from ways of good.<br>Forgive me too, ere thy dear pity cease,<br>That I denied thee, vexed thee with delay,<br>Sought my soul's coward shelter, not thy peace,<br>And having won thee still awhile said nay.<br>Forgive me this, that I too soon, too late,<br>Too wholly gave a love disconsolate.</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=Wilfrid+Scawen+Blunt">Wilfrid Scawen Blunt</a></strong></div>

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