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Birds of Passage (Collection)/Delia

From Wikisource
9835Birds of Passage — DeliaHenry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sweet as the tender fragrance that survives,
When martyred flowers breathe out their little lives,
Sweet as a song that once consoled our pain,
But never will be sung to us again,
Is thy remembrance. Now the hour of rest
Hath come to thee. Sleep, darling; it is best.