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Amaranth. — * Forever thine? 
It would be impossible to feel this sentiment for one on whose 
reciprocal attachment we could not depend with certainty. 
Let me be first, as thou art first, 
In every thought and wish of mine, 
And Sorrow’s darkest storms may burst, 
And Care her poisonous tendrils twine 
Upon thy head — around thy brow — 
And Friendship break its holiest vow, 
And all life’s sufferings combine, 
To bid thy tortured spirit bow; 
But faithful to the ruined shrine, 
My heart will cling — forever thine. 
