Eleanor Farjeon (Элинор Фарджон)
For Joan
I shall love no other child, Joan, as I love you; The second life our children build Remains for you to do. You would have been out-loved in one That never will be born, And the love that should my flower have grown Grows nothing but my thorn. You for that unborn other’s sake My deepest heart do clutch, But sometimes--sometimes all you take Hurts, for her sake, too much.
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