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SHELTERED.
[Margaret.]
MY love, oh ! my love, in the darkness,
While I have the warmth and light ;
Oh ! shine on him, stars out of heaven,
And comfort him, Queen of Night.
My love, whom they called unbeliever,
Because he had doubted them ;
My love, whom they called Pharisaic,
Because he had dared condemn.
My love, in the ranks of the martyrs,
No palm in his weary hand ;
So patiently walking in silence,
For no one will understand.
