Jessie Belle Rittenhouse


Debt

My debt to you, Belovéd,
Is one I cannot pay
In any coin of any realm
On any reckoning day;

For where is he shall figure
The debt, when all is said,
To one who makes you dream again
When all the dreams were dead?

Or where is the appraiser
Who shall the claim compute,
Of one who makes you sing again
When all the songs were mute?
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