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Now I will believe everything, in silence: in the night I listened to the Moonlightm Sonatam , and to Ave Mariam , next to a single dripping candle -- though the window lights strangely flattened against the wall -- I sat with heart and hands locked in prayer -- Ave, Ave! -- the candle too will burn to the stub, but my dear one's hands are lovely still, long, slender, I love them, and love rides me, as bright-eyed, gentle doves ride white saints' heads on the walls of old churches. 15 April 1929m