Dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
And was the day of my delight As pure and perfect as I say?
And sometimes through the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two.
Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again
Forgive! How many will say, forgive, and find a sort of absolution in the sound to hate a little longer!
The white flower of a blameless life.