Edgar Allan Poe (19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849 / Boston)
To F--S S. O--D
Thou wouldst be loved?- then let thy heart
From its present pathway part not!
Being everything which now thou art,
Be nothing which thou art not.
So with the world thy gentle ways,
Thy grace, thy more than beauty,
Shall be an endless theme of praise,
And love- a simple duty.
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