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POETKY OF FLOWERS. 
THE BROKEN FLOWER. 
On! wear it on thy heart, my love ! 
Still, still a little while ! 
Sweetness is lingering in its leaves. 
Though faded be their smile. 
Yet for the sake of what hath been. 
Oh ! cast it not away ! 
TTwas born to grace a summer scene, 
A long, bright, golden day, 
My love! 
A long, bright, golden day ! 
A little while around thee, love ! 
Its fragrance yet shall cling, 
Telling that on thy heart hath Iain, 
A fair, though faded thing. 
But not even that warm heart hath power 
To win it back from fate :— 
Oh ! I am like thy broken flower, 
Cherished too late, too late. 
My love ! 
Cherished, alas ! too late 1 
