All's to gain...
By Anne Whitney
All's to gain,
All is to come between us twain!
O never can serve
Fruition and conquered reserve
To feed the soul with a bliss,
So momently waking,
So troubled, but deep as death,
With a surface doubt and an under faith
Over it breaking, --
As this which we feel -- as this!
Source Book
Poems
by Anne Whitney
Copyright 1860
Published by Ticknor And Fields, Boston
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All's to gain...
by Anne Whitney
