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Show FREE. B I have set my heel on the thing that hurt me, bought my ease of heart with its death; BH Stilled the voice of its ceaseless grieving, silent B now with the silent breath. " B Iafe at last is my own for living, filled with fruits B tor my hand to take. B All too long have I lostvits laughter, turned aside B for a sad things' sake. B Peace at last, of the good world's giving, long: B atonement for all the tears. B Other voices and other faces, swift forgetting of IB grievous years. . . . B Yet Alas, it was fair and holy, the love I killed B tor a rest from pain! B Will there come a day and my heart be aching, B to teel it stir, and to weep again? WKL Alice Herbert, in "Between the Lights." B |