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THE FLOWER

She dropped a flower beside my foot,

And said : “Leave the flower that would be yours;

“The mistier mountains love must conquer;

“Think of those – that upright vastness streaked with ice,

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“The perilous ridges shelving to the gulfs of snow.

“This flower remains for you when you return,

“Or fading, still a better one will bloom

“As red as blood that stains the snow.

“So do not say goodbye – but go.”

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