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ONCE through the forest
Alone I went;
To seek for nothingMy thoughts were bent.
I saw i' the shadow
A flower stand there
As stars it glisten'd,As eyes 'twas fair.
I sought to pluck it,--
It gently said:
"Shall I be gather'dOnly to fade?"
With all its roots
I dug it with care,
And took it homeTo my garden fair.
In silent corner
Soon it was set;
There grows it ever,There blooms it yet.
1815.