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In Memoriam A.H.H.
I
cannot love thee as I ought,
For love reflects the thing beloved;
My words are only words, and moved
Upon
the topmost froth of thought.
‘Yet
blame not thou thy plaintive song,’
The Spirit of true love replied;
‘Thou canst not move me from thy side,
Nor
human frailty do me wrong.
‘What
keeps a spirit wholly true
To that ideal which he bears?
What record? not the sinless years
That
breathed beneath the Syrian blue:
‘So
fret not, like an idle girl,
That life is dash’d with flecks of sin.
Abide: thy wealth is gather’d in,
When
Time hath sunder’d shell from pearl.’
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