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 LIKE winds or waters were her ways:
The flowing tides, the airy streams,
Are troubled not by any dreams;
They know the circle of their days.
Like winds or waters were her ways: They heed not immemorial cries; They move to their high destinies Beyond the little voice that prays.
She passed into her secret goal, And left behind a soul that trod In darkness, knowing not of God, But craving for its sister soul.

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