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Paul Laurence Dunbar - To An IngratePaul Laurence Dunbar - To An Ingrate
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This is to-day, a golden summer`s day     And yet--and yet     My vengeful soul will not forget   The past, forever now forgot, you say.   From that half height where I had sadly climbed,     I stretched my hand,     I lone in all that land,   Down there, where, helpless, you were limed.   Our fingers clasped, and dragging me a pace,     You struggled up.     It is a bitter Cup,   That now for naught, you turn away your face.   I shall remember this for aye and aye.     Whate`er may come,     Although my lips are dumb,   My spirit holds you to that yesterday.
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