For My Grandmother
This lovely flower fell to seed;
Work gently, sun and rain;
She held it as her dying creed
That she would grow again.
This poem is in the public domain.
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To John Keats, Poet. At Spring Time*
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I have a rendezvous with Life,
In days I hope will come,
Ere youth has sped, and strength of mind,
Ere voices sweet grow dumb.
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When Spring's first heralds hum.
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