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my heart, Sorrow, you found a way; Mine enemy, it was bitter to weep and pray; I gave you tears for drinking, And heart-sick sobs, With brain too sick for thinking, And to the throbs Of my sad heart I hushed you till I crushed you Into rest for all your thorns.

Into my heart. Sorrow, too oft you came; Mine enemy, I heed not nor dread your name. Frozen the stream of your quaffing. And now your rest Is broken with my laughing. To my breast In these mine arms I hush you till I crush you Into rest for all your thorns.