Питер Хэйн

Some girls I worship from afar

to passionate excess.

But when I meet them face to face

I love them rather less.

Some other girls I love afresh

each time I meet again.

It's not until they're out of sight

that love begins to wane.

But you alone, my love, I love

wherever you may be.

So you can stay, or go away, -

it's all the same to me.

Now the November woods are clear and cold

and fragile snowflakes tremble in the air.

If the year's waning be like growing old,

come, Time, and sorincle snowflakes in my hair.