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"QUI SAIT AIMER, SAIT MOURIR."


"I burn my soul away!"
So spake the Rose and smiled: "within my cup
All day the sunbeams fall in flame,—all day
They drink my sweetness up!"

"I sigh my soul away!"
The Lily said; "all night the moonbeams pale
Steal round and round me, whispering in their play
An all too tender tale!"

"I give my soul away!"
The Violet said; "the West wind wanders on,
The North wind comes; I know not what they say,
And yet my soul is gone!

"Oh, Poet, burn away
Thy fervent soul! fond Lover at the feet
Of her thou lovest, sigh! dear Christian, pray,—
And let the World be sweet!