  Life to her was a perfect flower, And every petal a jeweled hour, Till all at once—we know not why— God sent a frost from His clear blue sky. Life to her was a fairy rune; Her light feet tripped to the lilting tune, Till all at once—we know not why— God stopped th' enchanting melody. Life to her was a picture book That her glad eyes searched with eager look Till all at once—we know not why— God put the wondrous volume by. |
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