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Nor doth it need the lotus flower 
To make the river flow. 
The clouds might give abundant rain, 
The nightly dews might fall, 
And the herb that keepeth life in man 
Might yet have drun them all. 
Then, wherefore, wherefore were thay mas: 
All dyed with rainbow light ; 
All fashion’d with supremest grace. 
Up-springing day and night ; 
Springing in valleys green and low, 
And on the mountains high, 
And in the silent wilderness, 
Where no man passes by ? 
Our outward life requires them not— 
Then wherefore had they birth ? 
To minister delight to man, 
To beautify the earth; 
To comfort man—to whisper hope 
Whene’er his faith is dim : 
For who so careth for the flowers, 
Will much more care for hina: 
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