<h2>XXXV</h2>
<p>If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange<br/>
And be all to me? Shall I never miss<br/>
Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss<br/>
That comes to each in turn, nor count it strange,<br/>
When I look up, to drop on a new range<br/>
Of walls and floors, another home than this?<br/>
Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is<br/>
Filled by dead eyes too tender to know change<br/>
That’s hardest. If to conquer love, has tried,<br/>
To conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove,<br/>
For grief indeed is love and grief beside.<br/>
Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to love.<br/>
Yet love me—wilt thou? Open thy heart wide,<br/>
And fold within, the wet wings of thy dove.</p>
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