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A love-tint flushes the wind-flower's cheek, Rich melodies gush from the violet's beak, On the rifts of the rock, the wild columbines grow, Their heavy honey-cups bending low. - [Flowers] Here oft we sought the violet, as it lay Buried in beds of moss and lichens gray. - [Violets] When summer gathers up her robes of glory, and like a dream of beauty glides away. - [Autumn] The aster greets us as we pass With her faint smile. - A Day of the Indian Summer (l. 35) [Asters] Beside the brook and on the umbered meadow, Where yellow fern-tufts fleck the faded ground, With folded lids beneath their palmy shadow The gentian nods in dewy slumbers bound. - A Still Day in Autumn (st. 6) [Gentians] The fair azalea bows Beneath its snowy crest. - She Blooms no More [Azaleas] The summer skies are darkly blue, The days are still and bright, And Evening trails her robes of gold Through the dim halls of Night. - Summer's Call [Night] The shy little Mayflower weaves her nest, But the south wind sighs o'er the fragment loam, And betrays the path to her woodland home. - The Waking of the Heart [Arbutus] Banks that slope to the southern sky Where languid violets love to lie. - Wood Walks in Spring (l. 11) [Violets]
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