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 OVE, do you love me, really and truly ? If I submit to you, frankly and duly, Will you, magnanimous, ease the surrender ? Will you be merciful, patient, and tender ? Will you, against myself, be my defender ? Love, if to-morrow word came I must leave you, Would this, our happy time, cheer you or grieve you ? Would you then wish that you never had known me, That I had left you in peacefulness lonely ? Would you be desperate, love, or sad only ? Love, only one thing is patent and certain,— All of our past is shut off by a curtain, Thick and impalpable as the night falling ; Never again shall the darkness enthralling Hear us, like lonely birds, each to each calling.