Never A Story Of More Woe Poem by Amy Sutton

All went to plan, and they eloped that night,
And fled so fast you’d think that they were chased:
The girl who taught the torches to burn bright,
And her young love, who stood on sudden haste.
But haste does not the way of love become,
And ardour burned too bright must dim too soon:
A few harsh words and passions are undone,
And more like strangers stand young bride and groom.
She thinks him coarse; he thinks her too high-bred,
And all debate does soon to tatters fall;
She will not speak; he will not share the bed.
They wonder how they ever loved at all.

She dreams of daggers; he, of poison strong:
Their love was never writ to last this long.