A flash in your eye for a minute— An answering light in mine. What was the mischief in it? Who but we two could divine— Before those eyelids droop Do I read your riddle— Well I take it an angel may stoop Sometimes, to the nether Hell. We'll argue it this way then Tho' it sound a trifle inhuman— I am not your man among men, Nor you my first dearest woman. Each touched some hidden chord In the other's heart for a minute, That sprang into light at a word And pulsed with the music in it— The veil was torn asunder As I sighed and pleaded and wooed, And we saw the truth there under As it stands—uncouth and nude. Now back to the work again— In the old blind tread-mill fashion— False hope, false joy, false pain, Rechauffés of by gone passion!
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