I remember the night when she was born
In sevenfold greatness; like a deft star
Fore-working destiny written in terms
Of toil, she had come in the late dimness
To do unique things. With joy in her soul
And pain in the deep hole of her veiled charm,
Promptly she moved in expectation’s zest
To forge thorough substance in the new fire
Never whose goldenness can become dull.
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