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Chide me not, laborious band! For the idle flowers I brought; Every aster in my hand Goes home loaded with a thought. - Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Apology The Autumn wood the aster knows, The empty nest, the wind that grieves, The sunlight breaking thro' the shade, The squirrel chattering overhead, The timid rabbits lighter tread Among the rustling leaves. - Dora Read Goodale, Asters The aster greets us as we pass With her faint smile. - Mrs. Sarah Helen Power Whitman, A Day of the Indian Summer (l. 35)
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