Life was to be lived not torpidly dozed through in this queer cultured place, where age was in the blood! Life was for love to be enjoyed!
The slender acacia would not shake One long milk-bloom on the tree; The white lake-blossom fell into the lake As the pimpernel dozed on the lea; But the rose was awake all night for your sake, Knowing your promise to me; The lilies and roses were all awake, They sighed for the dawn and thee.
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