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But the tall mad flower whose head is crowned
With the long lax petals that fall and flap
Like the ears of a fool's bell-cap,
He stood higher than all on the fameless mound;
And nodded his head to each passing sound,
Darting this way and that, as in sport to trap
Each laugh of the winds around.
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JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN, 74 & 75, PICCADILLY, LONDON.
