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Thou, who send’st it forth alone 
To the cold and sullen season 
(Like a thought at random thrown), 
Sent it thus for some grave reason ! 
If ’twere but to pierce the mind 
With a single gentle thought, 
Who shall deem thee harsh or blind ? 
Who that thou hast vainly wrought ? 
Hoard the gentle virtue caught 
From the Snowdrop— reader wise ! 
Good is good, wherever taught, 
On the ground or in the skies ! 
ae 
TO THE JESSAMINE. 
BY MISS JANE TAYLOR. 
SWEET Jessamine! long may thy elegant flower 
Breathe fragrance and solace for me! 
And long thy green sprigs overshadow the bower 
Devoted to friendship and thee. 
The eye that was dazzled where Lilies and Roses 
Their brilliant assemblage displayed, 
With grateful delight on thy verdure reposes, 
A tranquil and delicate shade. 
But ah! what dejection that foliage expresses, 
Which pensively droops on her breast ! 
‘The dew of the evening has laden her tresses, 
And stands like a tear on her crest. 
I'll watch by thy side through the gloom of the night, 
Impatient till morning appears : 
No charm can awaken this heart to delight, 
My Jessamine, while thou art in tears, 

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