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The forest leaves are sere and dead,

The wind has strewn the ground with flowers, But yet not all the bloom has fled

From this wide varying world of ours.

III.

There is a flower, whose leaves unfold

Upon the chill autumnal air ; Unmindful of the wind or cold

It blossoms still serene and fair.

IV.

It issues from a nobler stem

Than gives the rose or lily birth,
And droops not quickly, when like them,

'Tis gathered from its native earth.

V.

It fears not Time's relentless hand;

It shrinks not from the wintry weather; Content to twine the golden band,

Which links remembering hearts together.

VI.

Then, lady, take the blooming flower ;

Perhaps 'twill image to your eyes The radiance of your summer bower,

The waving trees and sunny skies.

VII.

But should it haply fail to move

One pleasant thought, one bygone dream, The gift, you know, at least may prove

A TOKEN-merely of esteem.

E.

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