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Show THE FOOL. O what a Fool am I, again, again, To give for asking; yet again to .trust The needy love in women, and in men Until again my faith is turned to dust By an ill thrust! How you must smile apart who make my hands Ever to bleed where they were reach od to bless! Wonder how any wit that understands Should ever try too near, with gentle stress, Your sullenness. Laugh, stare, deny. Because I shall be true, The only triumph slain by no surprise; True, true for that forlornest truth in you, The wan, beleaguered thing behind your eyes, Starving on lies. Grow by my faith: I am a steadfast tool: When I am dark, begone Into the sun, I cry, "Ah, Lord, how good to be a Fool! A lonely game, indeed, but now all done, And I have won." Josephine Preston Peabody in Harpers Magazine. |