The Witch Maid, and Other Verses/An Old Song

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The Witch Maid, and Other Verses by Dorothea Mackellar An Old Song

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AN OLD SONG

The almond bloom is overpast, the apple blossoms blow. I never loved but one man, and I never told him so. My flowers will never come to fruit, but I have kept my pride— A little, cold, and lonely thing, and I have naught beside. The spring-wind caught my flowering dreams, they lightly blew away. I never had but one true love, and he died yesterday.