Flows out of my heart

Into the mysterious love-perfumed ocean of night.

[57]

[57]

49

TRUCE

A field of battle—this sky,

The sun, the hero bleeding to death;

The shadows and lights hurl their

Hosts of clouds ceaselessly:

No peace?

Warfare all?

Nay, lo! she cometh—

The Spirit of Truce,

The Evening Star!

[58]

[58]

50

A PARALLEL

Time has passed, since

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