<SPAN name="XIII"></SPAN>XIII<br/>
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Of what avail the hectic reasoning<br/>
Of what we were and what we may attain?<br/>
All doubt is dead within this close where spring<br/>
Unfolds within us far from life and pain.<br/>
I reason not, nor do I seek to know,<br/>
For naught can trouble that within whose scope<br/>
Are all of sweet impulse and sudden fervour's glow,<br/>
And tranquil flight to sanctuaried hope.<br/>
Before I knew, I felt thy clarity;<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And 'tis my joy above</span><br/>
All else to fill my heart with love<br/>
Nor question why thy voice so calls to me.<br/>
Come, let our hearts be true—the day insure<br/>
To us the tenderness without the strife,<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And let them say that life</span><br/>
Was never made to reach a love so pure.<br/>
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