Love without hope, as when the young bird-catcher
Swept off his tall hat to the Squire's own daughter,
So let the imprisoned larks escape and fly
Singing about her head, as she rode by.
--Robert Graves
No reason for posting this other than it's quite lovely. It's exactly what lyrical poetry is supposed to be.
(Okay, I've been reading the Patrick Troughton Doctor Who Annuals, which insist on showing him with that hat from his first few stories and it always makes me think of this poem... And bugger all if you can find a picture of the dratted thing)
Edit: oops! No weird agenda with the wrong colour scheme. Just an amusing mistake!
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