A CAVALCADE
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"THISTLE-DOWN, Thistle-down, whither away? Will you not longer abide?" "Nay, we have wedded the winds to-day, And home with the rovers we ride." |
SILK
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'TWAS the shroud of many a worm-like thing That rose from its tangled skein; 'Twas the garb of many a god-like king Who went to the worms again. |
SEED-TIME
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WHEN Trumpet-flowers begin to blow The Thistle-downs take heed, For then they know 'tis time to go And plant the wingèd seed. |