He who measures gain and loss,
When he gave to thee the Rose,
Gave to me alone the Cross;
Where the blood-red blossom blows
In a wood of dew and moss,
There thy wandering pathway goes,
Mine where waters brood and toss;
Yet one joy have I, hid close,
He who measures gain and loss,
When he gave to thee the Rose,
Gave to me alone the Cross.
Public-domain source text
A Song of the Rosy Cross
by W. B. Yeats
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