A Drop of Dew
See how the orient Dew,
Shed from the bosom of the morn,
Into the blowing roses,
Yet careless of its mansion new
For the clear region where 'twas born,
Round-in itself encloses:
And in its little globe's extent
Frames, as it can its native element.
How it the purple flower does slight,
Scarce touching where it lies;10
And gazing back upon the skies
Shines with a mournful light
Like its own tear,
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