Poems (Nora May French)/Instinct

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INSTINCT
TO Reason with the praise of one I go To fall back, silent, at her whispered "No."
And always of the other says she, "Trust—He doeth thus and thus, O thou unjust!"
Yet meet one eye to eye and queries end—An eager hand goes out to greet a friend,
And let the other please me, soon or late Wakes with a hiss the little snake of hate.
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