When I watch the living meet
When I watch the living meet,And the moving pageant fileWarm and breathing through the streetWhere I lodge a little while,
If the heats of hate and lustIn the house of flesh are strong,Let me mind the house of dustWhere my sojourn shall be long.
In the nation that is notNothing stands that stood before;There revenges are forgot,And the hater hates no more;
Lovers lying two and twoAsk not whom they sleep beside,And the bridegroom all night throughNever turns him to the bride.
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