Quote:
the rarest of flowers, subtle and sweet,
that grew in the world ideal,
have dropped their seed in the soil at my feet,
And blossomed among the real.
and love, like a rose, still blossoms and blows,
Passion-hearted, yet tender.
and my path is strewn with the glories of june,
And I’m hedged about with its splendor.
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omes yads I kaew
pu nda inkth fo lal het
mneow orfeeb em nda the ofols
hety eerw ot vere etl ouy
lips uogrhht ierth gneisrf.
Htye rewe uchs mnad oflos, ouy onwk?
heyt erwe eht ypte fo oeplpe ot atwhc het iarn
uohgrht iethr odwnsiw nad
asy “notd’ ouy stuj ovle het ianr”
I, no the htore nadh, asw het noly noe
ot athcw ti oupr tsiudeo, kate ym oeshs fof,
nad oiuxsnlay nad vealyrb,
og naced adylm ni
ouy.