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Beloved

  Many a time sweet thoughts,
Come and drift through my head.
My muse stands not here beside me,
But there placed in my heart.
For I have seen my beloved not in the flesh,
But as a ghost and as a spirit.
For she has a form that is much more, than all my thoughts.
My beloved is of gossamer, a fleeting breeze,
Wrapping me all over and delighting me forever.
My beloved sends a shiver that travels down my spine,
Then lets me stand still to achingly remember.
My beloved is always with me,
But remains for others unseen.
For she is made of gossamer, a ghost, a thought,
She is a fleeting breeze.