< The Ascent of Man
XI.
Ah, yesterday was dark and drear,
My heart was deadly sore;
Without thy love it seemed, my Dear,
That I could live no more.
And yet I laugh and sing to-day;
Care or care not for me,
Thou canst not take the love away
With which I worship thee.
And if to-morrow, Dear, I live,
My heart I shall not break:
For still I hold it that to give
Is sweeter than to take.
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