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The daisies' eyes are a-twinkle with happy tears of dew. - [Flowers] What we want, we have for our pains The promise that if we but wait Till the want has burned out of our brains, Every means shall be present to state; While we send for the napkin the soup gets cold, While the bonnet is trimming the face grows old, When we've matched our buttons the pattern is sold, And everything comes too late--too late. - Too Late [Time]
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