BETA

‛ So say the foolish !”  Say the fool-
ish so, Love ?
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Flower she is, my rose,’ —or else
My very swan is she ’—
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Or perhaps ‘ Yon made-moon, blessing
earth below, Love,
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That art thou !’ —to them, belike : no
such vain words from me.
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Hush, rose, blush ! no balm like
breath,’ I chide it :
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Bend thy neck its best, swan,—hers
the whiter curve !’
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Be the moon the-moon : my love I
place beside it :
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What is she ?  Her human self,—
no lower word will serve.”
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