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And the blue gentian-flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last. - William Cullen Bryant, November Thou blossom! bright with autumn dew, And colour's with the heaven's own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night. - William Cullen Bryant, To the Fringed Gentian Blue thou art, intensely blue; Flower, whence came thy dazzling hue? - James Montgomery, The Gentianella 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. - Mrs. Sarah Helen Power Whitman, A Still Day in Autumn (st. 6)
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