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Conscience
The friend I loved betrayed my trust
And bowed my spirit to the dust.
I keep the hurt he gave, yet know
He was forgiven long ago.
From him I did not merit ill,
But I would bear injustice still,—
Content could years of guiltless woe
Undo the wrong I did my foe.
poem
by
Florence Earle Coates
from
Poems
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