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HIS MORNING THOUGHT
A WHITE flower bloomed in the morning
And I saw it and knew it fair;
When the next day dawned I sought it
But missed it everywhere.
A white star shone in the evening
It shone through my dreams and my sleep
Till its shaft of light pierced through my heart
As a stone through waters deep.
Though you love not and reck not of me
I have found my flower in your hand
And your white soul's light hath cleft a heart
That can know and understand.
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