"How, indeed, am I", said he,
"to go on loving honestly
When all I need, that which I breathe,
Is found completely within she?"
"The trouble lies within her eyes,
Such splendid visions," so said I,
"that taunt the dreams and sew the seams
Of mem'ries there immortalised."
"But without her, one must concur,"
Said he with fervour, all but sure,
"Hence forth shall I, until I die,
Love none so honestly as her."
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