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Chapter 38
 First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white.
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its “O, list,”
When the angels speak.  A ring of amethyst
I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,
Than that first kiss.  The second passed in height
T............
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