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168
A Vigil.
Passion dies, but Love’s eternal;
Love’s the essence of our God:
Love is old, yet ever vernal,
Passion’s but an earthly clod.

CVI.

To-morrow and To-morrow.

Good-bye, beloved! Not to me
Are moody twilights and the sob of song.
But glad defiance caught from thee
Shall light my way along,
Nor shall I quench in black despair
The flame your love fanned in the clod,
I, foolish heart, had deemed a soul,
But meet the eyes of Fate, and bear
The splendid answer, “Loving her
Has brought me nearer God.”

CVII.

A Vigil.

One bird upon the roof,
A chorister forlorn,
Sings to the cloistered morn