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AND now my task is done! The last pale flower,
Which bloomed to mourn the year's departing hour,
Has closed the wreath that fancy twined for thee
From many a hue of hope and memory;
Bright gems upon the dreamy future cast,
And fading leaves, that linger round the past.
Yes, here pale blossoms shine, and lowly flowers,
That sprang to life in gay or sombre hours;
And scentless though to some their hues may seem,
Yet thou, I trust, will not all worthless deem
These wild flowers culled beneath the morning sky,
These springtime buds of gentle poesy,
For sweet the task to twine them here for thee.
And now 'tis done,—then what remains for me7
What but an oft-told tale again to tell,
And breathe with swelling heart a long farewell;
To say once more whilever life is mine,
My heart's best love and fondest thoughts are thine.

As now upon these fairy leaves I gaze,
How bright again the torch of memory plays
O'er every passing scene and parted hour
Which called those thoughts to life with magic power,