In that same gloom, full of storm,
To my gate You had come.
Mind stupefied, being drowsy,
I did not invite inside, op'ning the door.
Standing with Your garments soaked You had been;
From storm-shivers You had trembled.
And yet sleep I did not break, rise and open gate;
Why then did You call me Your "most beloved"?
The whole watch You'd been waiting;
My faults had amassed tier after tier.
Why did You not wake me with flash of thunder
To please You by rendering service?
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I would not have treated You that way.
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