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17

RESEMBLANCE.

Pale little country girl, you could not guess
Why such a glance to your vague glance hath flown,
And why my words of earnest, tender tone
Expected the reply with so much stress.
You moved a heart-thought which were not your own
Of your own right, altho' that prettiness
Were form's perfection, and the fitting dress
Of truest inward beauty, tried and known.
Likeness and Memory, commingling shades,
That realizing this, and this in turn
Hallowing the other, made my spirit yearn
With sudden thrill, as suddenly that fades:
But not so this fresh longing which invades
The longing, lonely heart, to bid it burn.