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Yew Tree. — £ Sorrow deeply rooted .’ 
When sorrow has once become deeply seated in the mind, it is 
often difficult, if not impossible, to remove its traces; every thought 
and every expression will be tinctured by its sombre shades. 
Hast ne’er beheld the rays of morning 
Shine o’er some wild flower fresh and fair, 
Their light, a- golden veil, adorning, 
Its petals dancing in the ah, 
Yet ere the evening shades descended, 
Some blast too rude that flower had torn, 
Leaving its parent stem unfriended, 
Desolate, ruined, and forlorn? 
If thou hast, to thee I need not tell 
Of a heart where hopes were glowing bright, 
And fairy visions were wont to dwell 
Till it met with Sorrow's withering blight. 
