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My wrath did grow, my foe did not;
   my faith did slow in all my knots!
My heart did slow, my foes did not;
   my dream did flow in all my plots!

Their malice was watered
   with tears, from fears, my face did show;
   their monuments grow!

My garden was bare, my foes was not;
   my soul in bloom with all my clots!
My morning was lost, my foes was not;
   my evening defaced in all my spots!

Their malice did bore
   these tears, in fear, my heart of stone;
   their triumphs known!
Written by
William Troup  35/M/UK
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