Take us the Foxes, the little Foxes, that spoil the Vines
Our little selves,
Those bitter enemies of You and I ,
Oft mask our love and simple truth put by;
They chafe and fret the surface of our pool
Till Love's sweet face appear a mocking fool;
In peacock pride they hide our forms divine,
And clumsily make water of our wine;
They buoy us up when we would know the deep,
And with mere words they lull our souls to sleep:
Give us our dross, but our pure metal steal:
Show what is not, but what most is, conceal.
O my Beloved, look in thy deep heart:
I will in mine, and know thee as thou art.
Those bitter enemies of You and I ,
Oft mask our love and simple truth put by;
They chafe and fret the surface of our pool
Till Love's sweet face appear a mocking fool;
In peacock pride they hide our forms divine,
And clumsily make water of our wine;
They buoy us up when we would know the deep,
And with mere words they lull our souls to sleep:
Give us our dross, but our pure metal steal:
Show what is not, but what most is, conceal.
O my Beloved, look in thy deep heart:
I will in mine, and know thee as thou art.
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