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THE GREAT SECRET
our love affairs. I should like to have the eyes of the eagle and soar up
towards the sun, but if the sun comes down to me, scattering his splendours in
the dewdrops, I shall be grateful to nature without grieving too much when the
diamond disappears. Alas! for that fickle creature who loves me no more in
her search for her hem’s ideal, I too was but a drop of water; must I accuse
and curse her because,
in her sight, I have become a fallen
tear where she no longer sees the sun?
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