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 Exchanges by Ernest Dowson 
						All that I had I brought, Little enough I know;
 A poor rhyme roughly wrought,
 A rose to match thy snow:
 All that I had I brought.
 
 Little enough I sought:
 But a word compassionate,
 A passing glance, or thought,
 For me outside the gate:
 Little enough I sought.
 
 Little enough I found:
 All that you had, perchance!
 With the dead leaves on the ground,
 I dance the devil's dance.
 All that you had I found.
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