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AFTER THE PLAY
And the fire passed her by and left her there,
Like to a sleeping child, untouched and fair.
· | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · | · |
All—all that life withheld—is mine at last!
With love, with God,—believe me,—there's no past.
The future waits; it calls—I must not stay!
The night is over,—look! the dawn of Day!