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| LIKE a drop of water is my heart |
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| Laid upon her soft and rosy palm, |
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| Turn’d whichever way her hand doth turn, |
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| Trembling in an ecstasy of calm. |
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| Like a broken rose-leaf is my heart, | 5 |
| Held within her close and burning clasp, |
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| Breathing only dying sweetness out, |
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| Withering beneath the fatal grasp. |
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| Like a vapoury cloudlet is my heart, |
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| Growing into beauty near the sun, | 10 |
| Gaining rainbow hues in her embrace, |
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| Melting into tears when it is done. |
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| Like mine own dear harp is this my heart, |
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| Dumb without the hand that sweeps its strings; |
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| Tho’ the hand be careless or be cruel, | 15 |
| When it comes my heart breaks forth and sings. |
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