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1858–1941

III.

Rennell Rodd

I breathed a name once and again, I said a bitter thing in my pain, “I gave you all my love, and I spent it all in vain!” Then I saw a form across the night

Glide down the stars in a veil of light, And I said, “Who are you, dweller of the Infinite?” And I heard a voice on the stilly air, “You chide amiss in your own despair;

Lo, I am the soul of her love, and I follow you everywhere!”

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III. · Rennell Rodd · Poetry Cove