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:- I owe to her fond care alone that I may now be all thine own. Fair Joy was there--her fluttering wings At times she strove to raise; Watching through long and patient nights, Listening long eager days: I know now that her heart and mine were waiting, Love, to welcome thine. Thus I can read thy name throughout, And, now her task is done, Can see that even that faded Past Was thine, beloved one, And so rejoice my Life may be all consecrated, dear, to thee. VERSE: TRUE OR FALSE So you think you love me, do you? Well, it may be so; But there are many ways of loving I have learnt to know. Many ways, and but one true way, Which is very rare; And the counterfeits look brightest, Though they will not wear. Yet they ring, almost, quite truly, Last (with care) for long; But in time must break, may shiver At a touch of wrong: Having seen what looked most real Crumble into dust; Now I chose that test and trial Should precede my trust. I have seen a love demanding Time and hope and tears, Chaining all the past, exacting Bonds from future years; Mind and heart, and joy and sorrow, Claiming as its fee: That was Love of Self, and never, Never Love of me! I have seen a love forgetting All above, beyond, Linking every dream and fancy In a sweeter bond; Counting every hour worthless, Which was cold or free:- That, perhaps, was--Love of Pleasure, But not Love of me! I have seen a love whose patience Never turned aside, Full of tender, fond devices; Constant, even when tried; Smallest boons were held as victories, Drops that swelled the sea: That I think was--Love of Power, But not Love of me! I have seen a love disdaining Ease and pride and fame, Burning even its own white pinions Just to feed its flame; Reigning thus, supreme, triumphant, By the soul's decree; That was--Love of Love, I fancy, But not Love of me! I have heard--or dreamt, it may be-- What Love is when true; How to test and how to try it, Is the gift of few: These few say (or did I dream it?) That true Love abides In these very things, but always Has a soul besides. Lives among the false loves, knowing Just their peace and strife: Bears the self-same look, but always Has an inner life. Only a true heart can find it, True as it is true, Only eyes as clear and tender Look it through and through. If it dies, it will not perish By Time's slow decay, True Love only grows (they tell me) Stronger, day by
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