Words and Deeds


it is addressed thusly:
A word.
it reads:
Much ado yet is made of love
The heart, the flame, the dove--
The patriot may drape in the flag
But his secret is out of the bag--
"I leave you my peace", he said
"But not as the world does", instead--
Behind that lovely mask, my friend
Is no god who persevered to the end;
Now what thing would be reborn of you
With what you've put your soul through?
Your words made sound
            of beautiful demands
But had you been watching
             what did your hands?
You profess to know the book of love--
But love -- love was not what you were thinking of.

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