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Title: To One Across The Way
Author: Ambrose Bierce [ More Titles by Bierce]
When at your window radiant you've stood I've sometimes thought--forgive me if I've erred-- That some slight thought of me perhaps has stirred Your heart to beat less gently than it should. I know you beautiful; that you are good I hope--or fear--I cannot choose the word, Nor rightly suit it to the thought. I've heard Reason at love's dictation never could. Blindly to this dilemma so I grope, As one whose every pathway has a snare: If you are minded in the saintly fashion Of your pure face my passion's without hope; If not, alas! I equally despair, For what to me were hope without the passion?
[The end] Ambrose Bierce's poem: To One Across The Way ________________________________________________
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