The Laurustinus Fair tree of winter! fresh and flowering, When all around is dead and dry; Whose ruby buds, though storms are louring, Spread their white blossoms to the sky. Green are thy leaves, more purely green Through every changing period seen; And when the gaudy months are past, Thy loveliest season is the last. Be thou an emblem — thus unfolding The history of that maiden's mind, Whose eye, these humble lines beholding, In them her future lot may find: Through life's mutations may she be A modest evergreen like thee; Though bless'd in youth, in age more bless'd, Still be her latest days the best. |
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