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Yet blocks the path of love,

A wall that bars the sweetest kiss,

No blame upon her falls

Nor he who sits and thinks and dreams

And yearns for happiness.

Pressed up against the wall so tight,

His form moulds to the stone

And listens for her softest breath

Or her oncoming step.

So soft he strains and pains to hear.

Too far the maiden stands

Away for even briefest touch.

The End

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