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Show THE BLOOMS OF LONG AGO. I love the blooms of long ago, The blooms my mother knew; That by the paths her footsteps trod And in her garden grew. The vines she trained o'er porch and wall Are hallowed by her care; And though another grander be, To me 'tis not so fair. The dear old flowers bring memories Of childhood's mystic clime, Where all of life a rhythm sweet Ran to the steps of time. I love the blooms of lorn? ago. Their fragrant-haunted nook E'er takes me back to castles fair, That long since I forsook. ? Again I dream beneath the shades, As in the long ago; Chase butterflies, just as of yore, Where olden blossoms blow. I love the blooms of long ago, For what is fairest flower If in its heart abideth not This strange and subtle power? i If it wake not the mystic chorus On Memory's harp asleep. That fill the soul with music old And stir emotions deep? I ,lore the blooms of long ago: The blooms my mother knew . Whose brightness gemmed her hallowed ways As sunshine gems the dew. ' Emma E. L. Robinson. |