479

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-479-

She dealt her pretty words like Blades - 

How glittering they shone - 

And every One unbared a Nerve

Or wantoned with a Bone - 

She never deemed - she hurt - 

That - is not Steel's Affair - 

A vulgar grimace in the Flesh - 

How ill the Creatures bear - 

To Ache is human - not polite - 

The film upon the eye

Mortality's old Custom - 

Just locking up - to Die.