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IN A COLLEGE SETTLEMENT
And straight I seemed to see a close,
With hawthorn hedged and brier-rose;
And, bending down, I whispered, "Dear,
Come, let us fly, while no one knows,
To the country—far away from here!"
Upon the little world-worn face
There dawned a look of wistful grace,
Then came the question that for hours
Still followed me from place to place:
"Real country, where you can catch flowers?"
