O what happens when we are less than what are?

O what happens when we are less than what are—
Love is lost!
Slipping through our finger tips,
And even through our parted lips.

When it is, and we are all we can be,
How could we, then, not together, be;
If, inside us both, this love we see,
Is what—by Truth—we can, only, see?

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