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In their lace mitts, austere and sweet,
Her gown's white folds among

I watched to see if she would stay,
What she would do-and oh!
She looked as if she liked the way
I let my garden grow!

She bent above my favourite mint
With conscious garden grace,
She smiled and smiled-there was no hint
Of sadness in her face.

She held her gown on either side

To let her slippers show,