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, you have it; I can see. Beautiful? . . . Dear, look at me! Look and let my shame confess Triumph after weariness. Beautiful? Ah, yes.

Lift it where the beams are bright; Hold it where the western light, Shining in above my bed, Throws a glory on your head, Now it is all said.

All there was for me to say From the first until to-day. Long denied and long deferred, Now I say it in one word— Now; and you have heard.

Life would have its way with us, And I've called it glorious: For I know the glory now