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The Worth of You
Your smile I thought the worth of gold, so fair
it shone, yet lurking ‘neath was hid some rust.
The gold, the gem, I see was but some air;
to faulty things I gave my heart, my trust.
O curse my eyes so blind, that thought you worth
my tears when gone! Unable sight was mine.
You left without a care for me on earth.
The fiend you played; this I, the fool, divine.
I grasp for naught of yours, and give you now
not coppers, or that once of worth before;
my soul I deem a prize too high and vow
to put your steps behind and close the door.
Tis minds unlike that gather sores and rue
and yield unequal tidings ‘twixt the two.
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