On a Magnolia Flower Memorial of my former days, Magnolia, as I scent thy breath, And on thy pallid beauty gaze, I feel not far from death! So much hath happened! and so much The tomb hath claimed of what was mine! Thy fragrance moves me with a touch As from a hand divine! So many dead! so many wed! Since first, by this Magnolia's tree, I pressed a gentle hand, and said A Word no more for me! Lady, who sendest from the South This frail, pale token of the past, I press the petals to my mouth, And sign --- as 'twere my last. Oh, love, we live, but many fell! The world's a wreck, but we survive! --- Say, rather, still on earth we dwell, But gray at thirty-five! |
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