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yet, because thou overcomest so,

Because thou art more noble and like a king,

Thou canst prevail against my fears and fling

Thy purple round me, till my heart shall grow

Too close against thine heart, henceforth to know

How it shook when alone. Why, conquering

May prove as lordly and complete a thing

In lifting upward as in crushing low:

And, as a soldier struck down by a sword

May cry, "My strife ends here," and sink to earth

Even so, Beloved, I at last record,

Here ends my doubt! If thou invite me forth,

I rise above abasement at the word.

Make thy love larger to enlarge my worth.

poet, thou canst touch on all the notes

God set between His After and Before,

And strike up and strike off the general roar

Of the rushing worlds, a melody that floats

In a serene air purely. Antidotes

Of medicated music, answering for

Mankind's forlornest uses, thou canst pour

From thence into their ears. God's will devotes

Thine to such ends, and mine to wait on thine!

How, Dearest, wilt thou have me for most use?

A hope, to sing by gladly? . . or a fine

Sad memory, with thy songs to interfuse? ..

A shade, in which to sing. . . of palm or pine?

A grave, on which to rest from singing? . . Choose.