III
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hall I hurl myself from here,shall I leap and be nearer you?Shall I drop, beloved, beloved,ankle against ankle?Would you pity me, O white breast? If I woke, would you pity me,would our eyes meet? Have you heard,do you know how I climbed this rock?My breath caught, I lurched forward--stumbled in the ground-myrtle. Have you heard, O god seated on the cliff,how far toward the ledges of your house,how far I had to walk?
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