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His eyes to mine, my eyes to his Oh lad, how glad were we, What time I leaned to catch the kiss Your fingers tossed to me! This is the window where, one day, I crouched to see him go, When all the world with wrath was gray And desolate with snow. Oh, this the glass where prophet-wise My fate I needs must spell; Through this I looked on Paradise, Through this I looked on Hell. By LADY WILLSHIRE
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