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EARTH'S BLOSSOMS
EARTH has her blossoms, and the sea his shells
Wrought with as fine a workmanship, and fair
As they had been some god's peculiar care;
And in the heart of each a spirit dwells
Whose voice, in flowers,—for they to earth belong—
Is but a perfume, evanescent, sweet,
While in the sea-born shell, as seemeth meet,
It is an echo faint of an unending song!
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