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Envoy
By Walter De La Mare
There clung three roses to a stem,
Did all their hues of summer don,
But came a wind and troubled them,
And all were gone.
I heard three bells in unison
Clap out some transient heart's delight,
Time and the hour brought silence on
And the dark night.
Doth not Orion even set!
O love, love, prove true alone,
Till youthful hearts ev'n love forget,
Then, child, begone!
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