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Self Dies in Love

I shall roll up the carpet of life when I see,

Thy dear face again and shall cease to be

For self will be lost in that rapture, and all

The threads of my thought from my hand will fall;

Not me wilt thou find, for this self will have fled:

Thou wilt be my soul in mine own soul’s stead.

All thought of self will be swept from my mind,

And thee only thee, in my place shall I find;

More precious than heaven, than earth more dear,

Myself were forgotten if thou wert near.