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THE MARRIAGE OF TRUE MINDS.
And struggling o'er—yet more to make amend,
A Vine hath run, and on my side let fall
Some leaves and tendrils, chequering the dull stone
With verdurous gloom; e'en like such gracious bough
Hast thou, O Love! thy goodly branches thrown
O'er our Life's drearness; grieved and hated Thou
By this world's archers, yet Thou dost abide
In strength, firm rooted on the other side!