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PR 1184


First Edition printed October 1892

Reprinted November 1892



M. R. C.

FROM honeyed slopes of England's Helicon,

Where'er the visits of the Muse beget

Daisy or hyacinth or violet
Born of her tread, these floral spoils were won.
Some with caresses of the wooing sun

Are passion-flushed and sultry-hearted yet ;

And many with immortal tears are wet ; And emptied of its odorous soul is none.

Take, then, this garland of melodious flowers.
Till he, whose hand the fragrant chaplet wove,

Another wreath from his own garden bring,
These captive blossoms of a hundred bowers
Hold thou as hostages of Lyric Love,
In pledge of all the songs he longs to sing.

W. W.

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