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396

Mahomet! Mahomet! I have offended in this very hour When my press'd soul sigh'd for that loving peace Which in its earthly close the soul desires. I have offended,

Yes, thou hast offended. All the offences thou had ever done me Are in this fell and cruel stroke compris'd; And any other stroke, compar'd to this, Had fallen upon me lightly.

It was a thought that hasted fast away, And came unbidden, (Going up to her penitently.)

There is no thought doth ever cross the mind Till some preceding kindred sentiment Hath made a path-way for it.

Yes, my Valeria, thou indeed say'st true;