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FERNS. 



A S oft the pictured scene upon the wall 

 ** Brings back to mind scenes dearer and more fair, 

 As, heard at night, some simple, plaintive air 

 Awakes a chord we thought beyond recall ; 

 So do ye bring, O dainty, feathery ferns, 

 The summer's vanished glory to my room. 

 Again the lilies bud, the harebells bloom; 

 Again for me the scarlet maple burns 

 In leaf-strewn woods ; once more I softly tread 

 The fragrant, piny paths, or down moist dells 

 I wander, where a faint, fine odor tells 

 Your fairy fronds are near. . . . The dream has fled, 

 But still your sweetness stays. Oh, who would grieve 

 To die so sweetly and such sweetness leave ? 

 DECEMBER. 



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