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- TO A FRIEND WHOSE WORK HAS COME TO NOTHING
-
- NOW all the truth is out,
- Be secret and take defeat
- From any brazen throat,
- For how can you compete,
- Being honour bred, with one
- Who, were it proved he lies,
- Were neither shamed in his own
- Nor in his neighbours' eyes?
- Bred to a harder thing
- Than Triumph, turn away
- And like a laughing string
- Whereon mad fingers play
- Amid a place of stone,
- Be secret and exult,
- Because of all things known
- That is most difficult.
-