spoken

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hope deferred

i speak

yet hear not a word of my speaking

as a mute or a deafened man, i suppose

i think

yet contemplate not a bit of my thinking

as a truth and i am left in the know

what eyes had seen or hearing told

of wearing a ring which fitted a mold

none to do the better left undone

which spoke in sighs and cried in some

where that lady of mystery toiled in play

whispering in shouts and said just to say

"i am with you if the moon be full

or new and dark, you are within my soul."

i am not leaving now, nor ever shall i go

and of this mystery i wish you to know

tomorrow, yes, and even days yet come

i will welcome you home, my moon and my sun

if only you never leave me again

to worry and toil and spin in the wind

just a little faith now, i promise you'll see

that man that i am and all that is me

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