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Beloved, Practice Patience

ISSUE:  Autumn 1931

Beloved, practice patience with this tongue,
Restricted to a single argument.
O, suffer that the voice has left unsung
Such loveliness its vowels should have spent.
I do deny that I have made a truce With Beauty:
Even now, at my expense,
She battles.
But let others’ lips reduce
To language and recite the excellence
Of lily and of lark.
Let others’ speech
Translate into stupendous song the merit
Of the moon, unworthy of my diction’s reach.
All beauty but your own I disinherit:
Commend me that my voice is most content
To be a vassal to one argument.


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