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She Has Made Me Wayside Posies

She has made me wayside posies: here they stand,

Bringing fresh memories of where they grew.

As new-come travellers from a world we knew Wake every while some image of their land,

So these whose buds our woodland breezes fanned Bring to my room the meadow where they blew,

The brook-side cliff, the elms where wood-doves coo— And every flower is dearer for her hand.

Oh blossoms of the paths she loves to tread,

Some grace of her is in all thoughts you bear:

For in my memories of your homes that were The old sweet loneliness they kept is fled,

And would I think it back I find instead A presence of my darling mingling there.

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Augusta Davies Webster

Augusta Webster (30 January 1837 – 5 September 1894) was an English poet, dramatist, essayist, and translator. The daughter of Vice-admiral Geor…

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