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Pleasures newly found are sweet When they lie about our feet: February last, my heart First at sight of thee was glad; All unheard of as thou art, Thou must needs, I think have had, Celandine! and long ago, Praise of which I nothing know. - William Wordsworth, To the Same Flower Eyes of some men travel far For the finding of a star; Up and down the heavens they go, Men that keep a mighty rout! I'm as great as they, I trow, Since the day I found thee out, Little Flower!--I'll make a stir, Like a sage astronomer. - William Wordsworth, To the Small Celandine Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory; Long as there violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine. - William Wordsworth, To the Small Celandine
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