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DREAMS.

A TANGLED sheen of sunlit hair;

A face most exquisitely fair;

A little ear of dainty mould,

That blushed as if some whisper told

A lover's secret; laughing eyes,

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All joyous with a sweet surprise ;

And flushes playing on a cheek

More soft than peach, than plum more sleek;

Ripe lips that in their pouting sue,

And rival roses in their hue ;

A form that, neither short nor tall,

Is in its grace majestical, -

I see this, love this; that is all.

In vain for me to strive to paint

The spice of sinner with the saint,

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