Dying To be afraid of thee
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Dying! To be afraid of thee
One must to thine Artillery
Have left exposed a Friend
Than thine old Arrow is a Shot
Delivered straighter to the Heart
The leaving Love behind

Not for itself, the Dust is shy
But, enemy, Beloved be
Thy Batteries divorce
Fight sternly in a Dying eye
Two Armies, Love and Certainty
And Love and the Reverse