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sometimes sweet
oft times bitter –
the taste of yesterdays
but true to love
the worth of either
has filled my troubled heart
with grace

there are no lines
nor rivers swiftly
suffered by the rain
no griefs have I without confessing
everything to gain

let me live
or let me gather
all tis mine or thought for once –
let me pass beyond this slumber
but leave to memory
the whole of us

. . .