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"Hemans.
"Where the purple violet groweth
Beneath the willow-tree,
Where the early snowdrop bloweth,
Seek we a wreath for thee.
For the violet's breath perfumeth
The open air around,
And the gentle snowdrop bloometh
When none beside are found.
We will gather these, these only,
To strew thy grave along;
They are lovely, they are lonely,
And they haunt us like thy song.
