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Fitter to see Him, I may be
For the long Hindrance-Grace-to Me-
With Summers, and with Winters, grow,
Some passing Year-A trait bestow

To make Me fairest of the Earth-
The Waiting-then-will seem so worth
I shall impute with half a pain
The blame that I was chosen-then-

Time to anticipate His Gaze-
It's first-Delight-and then-Surprise-
The turning o'er and o'er my face
For Evidence it be the Grace-

He left behind One Day-So less
He seek Conviction, That-be This-

I only must not grow so new
That He'll mistake-and ask for me
Of me-when first unto the Door
I go-to Elsewhere go no more-

I only must not change so fair
He'll sigh-”The Other-She-is Where?”
The Love, tho', will array me right
I shall be perfect-in His sight-

If He perceive the other Truth-
Upon an Excellenter Youth-

How sweet I shall not lack in Vain-
But gain-thro' loss-Through Grief-obtain-
The Beauty that reward Him best-
The Beauty of Demand-at Rest-