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8
Spirits Twain.
We heed nor bolt nor bar,
But enter at our will the palace gate,
With no credentials, but as guests from far:
We neither stand nor wait.

Close, close, how close we cling!
Nor marriage rite, nor thou, oh child most dear,
Nor friend, long-tried and ever true, can bring
Soul unto soul so near.

Yes, where have we not been,
On land, on sea, on cloud or sunny sky?
What places dark, what spots so fair we've seen,
My thought, my thought and 1!