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XXXI


Love, let the wind cry
  1
On the dark mountain,
Bending the ash-trees
And the tall hemlocks,
With the great voice of
Thunderous legions,
How I adore thee.

Let the hoarse torrent
  8
In the blue canyon,
Murmuring mightily
Out of the grey mist
Of primal chaos,
Cease not proclaiming
How I adore thee.

Let the long rhythm
  15
Of crunching rollers,
Breaking and bellowing
On the white seaboard,
Titan and tireless,
Tell while the world stands,
How I adore thee.

Love, let the clear call
  22
Of the tree-cricket,
Frailest of creatures,
Green as the young grass,
Mark with his trilling
Resonant bell-note,
How I adore thee.

Let the glad lark-song
  29
Over the meadow,
That melting lyric
Of molten silver,
Be for a signal
To listening mortals,
How I adore thee.

But more than all sounds,
  36
Surer, serener,
Fuller with passion
And exultation,
Let the hushed whisper
In thine own heart say,
How I adore thee.







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