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FLOWER OF YOUTH
Nay, but a face was his
Only in dreams,
Only in dreams of bliss
In the star-gleams.
Nay, but a face that watched
Long years to see
Who came by the door unlatched,
If it were he.
What was the voice before
That lured him on?
"Oh, thou long-hungered for,
My son, my son!"
Lo, he hath heard, hath seen,
He hath slipped over
Where the great days begin
For friend and lover.
