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The Flower

Once in a golden hour     I cast to earth a seed.

Up there came a flower,     The people said, a weed.

To and fro they went     Thro' my garden bower,

And muttering discontent     Cursed me and my flower.

Then it grew so tall     It wore a crown of light,

But thieves from o'er the wall     Stole the seed by night.

Sow'd it far and wide     By every town and tower,

Till all the people cried,     "Splendid is the flower!"Read my little fable:     He that runs may read.

Most can raise the flowers now,     For all have got the seed.

And some are pretty enough,     And some are poor indeed;

And now again the people     Call it but a weed.

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Alfred Lord Tennyson

Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson FRS (6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892) was a British poet. He was the Poet Laureate during much of Queen Victo…

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