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121
ANSWER TO
Twine not the cypress round my harp—
It wears too dull a shade for me;
Light as the flowers
Of April bowers,
The wreath that encircles my harp must be.
If you will twine a wreath for me,
Twine it of blooms that vanish soon;
Let each fair hue
Be wet with dew,
But dew that will pass in the smile of noon.
