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44
POEMS.
My lady displays at her bodice
A marvelous fragrant bouquet,
And weaves for her forehead a chaplet
Of roses, in tasteful array.

The lover selects for his mistress
Jacqueminot, or the creamy Lamarque
In scarce-opened buds, emblematic
Of true love's incipient spark.

'Mid roses in lavish profusion,
Inhaling the scent-laden air
The sojourner lingers, believing
Perennial spring-time is there.

'T is the home of "The Great Exposition"—
Oh! who that has money and time
Can banish desire for basking
Awhile in that tropical clime?




To One Afar
It seems the days will never end
Apart from thee, my one dear friend,
Whom every hour my thoughts attend.

Fair morning dawns in dewy grace
And seeks, with kisses on my face,
Night's ling'ring tear-drops to erase.