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Blossoms (Poem)

I plucked the flower of hope—
Sweet blossom fair—
It faded on my breast,
Yea, perished there.

I plucked the flower of love
In fullest blush;
Its petals, withering, fell
Beneath my touch.

I plucked the flower of peace—
Its fragrance pure
Remains in full with me
While worlds endure.

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