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 And having won, to lose disastrously, And as it was to prove, interminably— Or till an end of living may annul, If so it be, the nameless obligation That I have not the Christian revenue In me to pay. A man who has no gold, Or an equivalent, shall pay no gold Until by chance or labor or contrivance He makes it his to pay; and he that has No kindlier commodity than hate, Glossed with a pity that belies itself In its negation and lacks alchemy To fuse itself to—love, would you have me say? I don't believe it. No, there is no such word. If I say tolerance, there's no more to say. And he who sickens even in saying that— What coin of God has he to pay the toll