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APPENDIX
Where will my home be? I'll not ask;
I would not now be told!
Enough to know 'tis God who will
In all my being hold,
I do not know what lovely flowers
May deck the new world's vales;
But, though the brightest bloom abound,
If spring no primrose hails,
Its absent beauties I shall mourn,
For I have loved that flower;
And my heart's friends have loved it too
From childhood's earliest hour.
