<h3 id="The_Lost_Name">The Lost Name</h3>
<p>THE voice of my true love is low<br/>
And exquisitely kind,<br/>
Warm as a flower, cold as snow—<br/>
I think it is the Wind.</p>
<p>My true love’s face is white as mist<br/>
That moons have lingered on,<br/>
Yet rosy as a cloud, sun-kissed—<br/>
I think it is the Dawn.</p>
<p>The breath of my true love is sweet<br/>
As gardens at day’s close<br/>
When dew and dark together meet—<br/>
I think it is a Rose.</p>
<p>My true love’s heart is wild and shy<br/>
And folded from my sight,<br/>
A world, a star, a whispering sigh—<br/>
I think it is the Night.</p>
<p>My true love’s name is lost to me,<br/>
The prey of dusty years,<br/>
But in the falling Rain I see<br/>
And know her by her tears!</p>
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