Poem by William Blake,
Never seek to tell they love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind dot move
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart;
Trembling cold, in ghastly fears; --
Ah! She did depart.
Soon after she was gone from me
A traveler came by,
He took her with a sigh
For the second day in a row, Papa quotes famous poetry about women who remain out of reach or who turn away from declarations of love. The events of January 31 are still with him, affecting him with a quiet, helpless longing. I wonder if he seems distracted at work, when talking to friends and family, when walking down the street.