Page:The collected poems, lyrical and narrative, of A. Mary F. Robinson.djvu/89

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A Rifiorita

Flowers in the wall!
How could he leave the house where he was born?
(We children flayed together
In warm or wintry weather)
How could he leave the house where he was born?
I count the stones for him and love them all.

Flowers on the stone!
The Siren loves the sea, but I the Past!
(We children played together
In warm or wintry weather)
The Siren loves the sea, but I the Past;
Upon my rock I sing alone, alone.

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