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 Than this flesh and blood below.

Give me back the robe whereby

I may once more reach my sky,

And, for deed of gentilesse,

When I don again my dress,

I will dance, to do thee pleasure,

One round of our heavenly measure;

I will sing, to comfort thee,

One strain of the melody

Heard by souls divine, in sphere

Where the Light is lovelier!"

Ah! to see you fly I dread

When I yield this wonder! Tread

First your measure, Lady sweet!

Then I place it at your feet."

Shame upon thee! I have heard

Men will break a plighted word,

But with us this is not so!

All unveiled the Spirits go;

And nay is nay, and yes is yes:

I dance not else! Give me the dress!"