Too Late – Matthew Arnold

Each on his own strict line we move,
And some find death ere they find love;
So far apart their lives are thrown
From the twin soul which halves their own.

And sometimes, by harder fate,
The lovers meet, but meet too late.
– Thy heart is mine! – True, true! ah, true!
– Then, love, thy hand! – Ah no! adieu! 

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