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The Mountain Laurel was displayed, 
As his most leading trait; 
* Accept the Hawthorn said the maid, 
‘ And hope thou ’It yet be great.’ 
‘ Nay, nay! ’ he cried, ‘ Ambition springs 
To something more than fame; 
This Tulip , gentle lady, sings 
The boon I dare not name 
She read his meaning in the eyes 
Turned fondly to her own, 
And took the flower, while sweet surprise, 
Upon her flushed cheek shone. 
The fair Camellia next he gave; 
‘ My destiny I place 
Within thy hands; ah, lady, save 
My hopes from dark disgrace! ’ 
