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THE SECRET
A TIDE of sun and song in beauty broke
Against a bitter heart, where no voice woke
Till thus it spoke:—
What was it, in the old time that I know,
That made the world with inner beauty glow,
Now a vain show?
Still dance the shadows on the grass at play,
Still move the clouds like great, calm thoughts away,
Nor haste, nor stay.
But I have lost that breath within the gale,