Fitter to see Him, I may be
For the long Hindrance — Grace — to Me —
With Summers, and with Winters, grow,
Some passing Year — A trait bestow

To make Me fairest of the Earth —
The Waiting — then — will seem so worth
I shall impute with half a pain
The blame that I was chosen — then —

Time to anticipate His Gaze —
It’s first — Delight — and then — Surprise —
The turning o’er and o’er my face
For Evidence it be the Grace —

He left behind One Day — So less
He seek Conviction, That — be This —

I only must not grow so new
That He’ll mistake — and ask for me
Of me — when first unto the Door
I go — to Elsewhere go no more —

I only must not change so fair
He’ll sigh — “The Other — She — is Where?”
The Love, tho’, will array me right
I shall be perfect — in His sight —

If He perceive the other Truth —
Upon an Excellenter Youth —

How sweet I shall not lack in Vain —
But gain — thro’ loss — Through Grief — obtain —
The Beauty that reward Him best —
The Beauty of Demand — at Rest —

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