Page:Poems Denver.djvu/217

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MY PLAYMATES.
211
Dear playmates! ere the rose-leaves fall,
They fill with fragrant breath
The air; and so I breathe, to all,
Out from my life's fast-fading wreath
Of' simple wild-flowers, one fond song;
A loving souvenir from me,
Who'd fain the dear old friends among,
Thereby remembered be,
When I no more shall sing or sigh,
Or heed the seasons where I lie.