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career man's joy
0! I could laugh to hear the midnight wind,
And I could weep
We were two pretty babes, the youngest she,
In my poor mind it is most sweet to muse
flowers, Make posies in the sun, which the child's hand, (Childhood offended soon, soon reconciled,) Would throw away, and strait take up again, Then fling them to the winds, and o'er the lawn Bound with so playful and so light a foot, That the press’d daisy scarce declined her head.