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IN A TENEMENT
The flowers made in Fairyland
Have breath—oh, breath that 's sweet!
For once I held them in my hand—
Far off from this dull street!—
And looked down in their hearts and saw
The tracks of fairy feet.
I dream at night of that strange place,
And in my dream, quite near,
They dance about before my face,—
The fairies kind and dear;
And, oh, I want to go to them!
You see, they can't come here.
