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But one heart lies beneath, and that is good,
VIOLET ! sweet violet !
Thine eyes are full of tears ;
Are they wet
With the thought of other years?
Loved-one of my youth thou wast,
And I see,
All the fair and sunny past,
Thy little heart, that hath with love
Can it know
All the woe
Of hope for what returneth never,
Out on it! no foolish pining
For the sky
Dims thine eye, Or for the stars so calmly shining ; Like thee let this soul of mine Take hue from that wherefor I long, Self-stayed and high, serene and strong, Not satisfied with hoping - but divine.