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a fragment
In company, in taking pleasure, quite without fuss,
And zestful, and at once alone,
At least apart, and here with us,
She knows that nothing is our own,
Is almost shy
In a quiet personal to her
With room for other thoughts to occur.
Her spirits, high,
No timid moderation there! And yet not bitten
By this desire and that, like me
Who goes through life being smitten ...
How her laughter comes out free
Racy and full --
Though good comes compact with bad
And justice from the gods is baffl
ing, sad,
Or terrible.