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A great acacia, with its slender trunk And overpoise of multitudinous leaves. (In which a hundred fields might spill their dew And intense verdure, yet find room enough) Stood reconciling all the place with green. - Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Aurora Leigh (bk. VI) Pluck the acacia's golden balls, And mark where the red pomegranate falls. - Julia Caroline Ripley Dorr Light-leaved acacias, by the door, Stood up in balmy air, Clusters of blossomed moonlight bore, And breathed a perfume rare. - George MacDonald, Song of the Spring Nights (pt. I) Our rocks are rough, but smiling there Th' acacia waves her yellow hair, Lonely and sweet, nor loved the less For flow'ring in a wilderness. - Thomas Moore, Lalla Rookh--Light of the Harem
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