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Sonnets from the Portuguese iii

GO from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand 
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore 
Alone upon the threshold of my door 
Of individual life I shall command 
The uses of my soul nor lift my hand 5 
Serenely in the sunshine as before  
Without the sense of that which I forbore¡ª 
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land 
Doom takes to part us leaves thy heart in mine 
With pulses that beat double. What I do 10 
And what I dream include thee as the wine 
Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue 
God for myself He hears that name of thine  
And sees within my eyes the tears of two. 

Poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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