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Poems

by W. T. Moncrieff
 

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CONCETTO.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


146

CONCETTO.

[Its passion my timid heart smothers]

TO ------
Its passion my timid heart smothers,
And deems not, devoted and true,
The rapture of living for others
So sweet as the dying for you!
Myself with the silent to number,
And think that I died for thy sake,
Were as sweet as to sink into slumber,
With music that seraphims wake!