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the young man, many things to absorb, to engraft,
 * to develop, I teach, to help him become élève of
 * mine.

But if blood like mine circle not in his veins,
 * If he be not silently selected by lovers, and do not
 * silently select lovers,

Of what use is it that he seek to become élève of
 * mine?



whom I often and silently come where you
 * are, that I may be with you,

As I walk by your side, or sit near, or remain in the same
 * room with you,

Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your
 * sake is playing within me.



my last words, and the most baffling Here the frailest leaves of me, and yet my strongest-
 * lasting.

Here I shade down and hide my thoughts—I do not
 * expose them,

And yet they expose me more than all my other
 * poems.