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TO M.L.

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A lily thou wast when I saw thee first,

A lily-bud not opened quite,

That hourly grew more pure and white,

By morning, and noontide, and evening nursed:

In all of nature thou hadst thy share;

Thou wast waited on

By the wind and sun;

The rain and the dew for thee took care;

It seemed thou never couldst be more fair.

A lily thou wast when I saw thee first,

A lily-bud; but oh, how strange,

How full of wonder was the change,

When, ripe with all sweetness, thy full bloom burst!

How did the tears to my glad eyes start,

When the woman-flower

Reached its blossoming hour,

And I saw the warm deeps of thy golden heart!

Glad death may pluck thee, but never before

The gold dust of thy bloom divine

Hath dropped from thy heart into mine,

To quicken its faint germs of heavenly lore;

For no breeze comes nigh thee but carries away

Some impulses bright

Of fragrance and light,

Which fall upon souls that are lone and astray,

To plant fruitful hopes of the flower of day.

The Complete Poetical Works of James Russell Lowell

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