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Periwinkle. 
“Through primrose tufts in that green bower, 
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths.” 
WoRDSWORTH, 
SWEET REMEMBRANCES. 
Can I forget, — canst thou forget, 
When playing with thy golden hair, 
How quick thy fluttering heart did move ? 
Oh! by my soul, I see thee yet, 
With eyes so languid, breast so fair, 
And lips, though silent, breathing love. 
When thus reclining on my breast, 
Those eyes threw back a glance so sweet, 
As half reproached, yet raised desire ; 
And still we near and nearer prest, 
And still our glowing lips would meet, 
As if,in kisses to expire. 
And then those xensive eyes would close, 
And bid their lids each other seek, 
Veiling the azure orbs below ; 
While their long lashes’ darkening gloss 
Seemed stealing o’er thy brilliant cheek, 
Like raven’s plumage smoothed on snow. 
BYRon. 


