The Self-Unseeing
Here is the ancient floor,Footworn and hollowed and thin,Here was the former doorWhere the dead feet walked in.
She sat here in her chair,Smiling into the fire;He who played stood there,Bowing it higher and higher.
Childlike, I danced in a dream;Blessings emblazoned that dayEverything glowed with a gleam;Yet we were looking away!
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