Mistress...
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Should these enamored words chance to meet your eyes
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Or pass between your lips
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The forgive me; it was your eyes
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In whose shade one evening I leaned resting
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And snatched brief slumber
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In their repose I caressed the stars and moon
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I wove a boat of fancy out of petals
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And laid down my tired soul
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Gave to drink my thirsty lip
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Quenched my eye's desire.
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***
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Mistress...
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When we met by chance as strangers meet
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My sorrow too was walking on the road
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Bare, unveiled
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With heavy tread
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You were my sorrow.
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Sadness and loss
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Silence and regret
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Were embracing a poet consumed by struggle.
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For poetry, mistress, is a stranger in my land
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Killed by emptiness and void
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My spirit trembled saw you
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I felt suddenly as if a dagger delved into my blood
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Cleanse my heart, my mouth
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Prostrated me with soiled brow and supplicating hands
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In the shade of your sweet eyes.
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***
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Mistress...
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If suddenly we meet
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If my eyes see those your eyes
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High-set, green, drowned in mist and rain
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If on the road by another chance we meet
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And what is chance but fate?
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Then would I kiss the road, kiss it twice. |