Dying! To be afraid of thee

Dying! To be afraid of thee

One must to thine Artillery

Have left exposed a Friend—

Than thine old Arrow is a Shot

Delivered straighter to the Heart

The leaving Love behind.

 

Not for itself, the Dust is shy,

But, enemy, Beloved be

Thy Batteries divorce.

Fight sternly in a Dying eye

Two Armies, Love and Certainty

And Love and the Reverse.

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