II. TO A FLOWER.

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Happy blossom that shinest,
Lit by the smiles of the sun,
Lavishing of thy finest
Fragrance on every one;
Happy that ne'er repinest
For the day when the dusk is begun,
But humbly thy head inclinest,
Content that thy work is done.

Sorrowing hearts thou cheerest,
Bidding them live like thee,
Who calmly the wild storm hearest
Gathering threateningly,
And never the dark night fearest,
And trustest that, though they be
Withered and dead, thy dearest
Another summer shall see.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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