Why make it doubt it hurts it so


Why make it doubt it hurts it so
So sick to guess
So strong to know
So brave upon its little Bed
To tell the very last They said
Unto Itself and smile And shake
For that dear distant dangerous Sake
But the Instead the Pinching fear
That Something it did do or dare
Offend the Vision and it flee
And They no more remember me
Nor ever turn to tell me why
Oh, Master, This is Misery


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Why make it doubt it hurts it so