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My Heart's my Greenhouse. 
(7a) 
W. L. 
\ Y heart’s to me a pleasant Greenhouse, 
Where, when Winter winds blow chill, 
And blasted all lie Summer flowerets, 
Sheltered bloom my flowerets still. 
All around its crystal casements 
Clusters wild the passion-vine ; 
Veiling brightly clouds and shadows, 
But admits the dear sunshine. 
There the perfume of the lily 
Mingles with the damask rose ; 
Deeply sighs the orange-blossom 
And the bright carnation glows. 
There the timid violet trembles ; 
Heliotropes their fragrance shed ; 
And the star of Bethlehem watches 
O’er the heart’s-ease’ lowly bed. 










