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1799–1845

TO A FALSE FRIEND.

Thomas Hood

Our hands have met, but not our hearts; Our hands will never meet again. Friends, if we have ever been, Friends we cannot now remain:

I only know I loved you once, I only know I loved in vain; Our hands have met, but not our hearts; Our hands will never meet again!

Then farewell to heart and hand! I would our hands had never met: Even the outward form of love Must be resign'd with some regret.

Friends, we still might seem to be, If I my wrong could e'er forget; Our hands have join'd but not our hearts: I would our hands had never met!

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TO A FALSE FRIEND. · Thomas Hood · Poetry Cove