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They walk the city street on either side,
He north, she south. He feints as if to cross,
But stops and fixes on the busses' chrome,
Wherein he sees, distorted in its gloss,
Her image, like a girl he'd known at home;
And bristling at her wrongs, his aching pride
Vents expletives, which waft across the street --
She looks, and knows her love immediately.

She greets him, struggling through the inert files
Of traffic; but he tells her through his pain,
"You look alike, but you could not be she:
You're lovelier than she could ever feign,
And you might have a heart." At that she smiles
And leaves him, with a lightness in her feet.