Pasque-Flower
Dear, ask no song tonight,
My heart is heavy with sad delight;
Beauty's have been these hours
And yours and the pasque-flower's,
That having gone are now forever ours.
Forever ours indeed,
Blown away to be memory's seed
And like the pasque-flower still
To haunt on Streatley Hill
Dark with juniper above Streatley mill.
My heart is heavy with sad delight;
Beauty's have been these hours
And yours and the pasque-flower's,
That having gone are now forever ours.
Forever ours indeed,
Blown away to be memory's seed
And like the pasque-flower still
To haunt on Streatley Hill
Dark with juniper above Streatley mill.
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