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IMPROMPTU.
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And o'er the calm thoughts slumbering in my soul,
Steals with a soft and beautiful control,
The glowing visions of my life to bless
With a deep spell of joy and loveliness.

Oh bright magnolia, thou hast ever stood
The queen of all the floral sisterhood,
And she, thy giver, in her pride of place,
Is crowned the queen of beauty, love, and grace;
Ay, what thou art within the garden-bowers
Is she, thy giver, among human flowers.

Yet she is far more beautiful than thou,
Thy leaves are not so white as her white brow;
'Twere vain within thy perfumed depths to seek
Such tints as live upon her heavenly cheek;
And the dear witcheries of her blue eye glow
More lovely than thy cup of spotless snow.

In thy sweet incense-breath, there is no spell
Like those that round her presence ever dwell;