<h2>XL</h2>
<p>Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!<br/>
I will not gainsay love, called love forsooth:<br/>
I have heard love talked in my early youth,<br/>
And since, not so long back but that the flowers<br/>
Then gathered, smell still. Mussulmans and Giaours<br/>
Throw kerchiefs at a smile, and have no ruth<br/>
For any weeping. Polypheme’s white tooth<br/>
Slips on the nut if, after frequent showers,<br/>
The shell is over-smooth,—and not so much<br/>
Will turn the thing called love, aside to hate<br/>
Or else to oblivion. But thou art not such<br/>
A lover, my Belovëd! thou canst wait<br/>
Through sorrow and sickness, to bring souls to touch,<br/>
And think it soon when others cry “Too late.”</p>
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