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Love and Pride

Louisa Sarah Guggenberger Bevington

I could have striven for you, dear,
To save your spirit strife;
I could have suffered, aye! and died
If you had needed life:
But since you ask no boon of me
I'll love you very quietly.

I could have been a saint, for you,
Or stooped to meanest fame;
The stair to heaven or path to hell,
With you, were all the same:
But since you do not beckon, dear,
My life shall wait, unprovèd, here.

'Tis very hard to give no gift,
To yearn, and yet to bide;
The keenest pain that lovers know
Is love's own patient pride;
But since no service dear, you ask,
My heart accepts the sterner task.

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