Page:Renascenceotherp00milluoft.pdf/76

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BLIGHT

Hard seeds of hate I planted
That should by now be grown,
Rough stalks, and from thick stamens
A poisonous pollen blown,
And odors rank, unbreathable,
From dark corollas thrown!

At dawn from my damp garden
I shook the chilly dew;
The thin boughs locked behind me

That sprang to let me through;

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