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 They are all in the lily-bed, cuddled close together--
 Purple, Yellow-cap, and little Baby-blue;
  How they ever read more 
 They are all in the lily-bed, cuddled close together--
 Purple, Yellow-cap, and little Baby-blue;
  How they ever got there you must ask the April weather,
   The morning and the evening winds, the sunshine and the dew. 
 The delicate thought, that cannot find expression,
 For ruder speech too fair,
  That, like thy petals, trembles read more 
 The delicate thought, that cannot find expression,
 For ruder speech too fair,
  That, like thy petals, trembles in possession,
   And scatters on the air. 
 The beauteous pansies rise
 In purple, gold, and blue,
  With tints of rainbow hue
   read more 
 The beauteous pansies rise
 In purple, gold, and blue,
  With tints of rainbow hue
   Mocking the sunset skies. 
 I send thee pansies while the year is young,
 Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night;
  Flowers read more 
 I send thee pansies while the year is young,
 Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night;
  Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung
   By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light;
    And if in recollection lives regret
     For wasted days and dreams that were not true,
      I tell thee that the "pansy freak'd with jet"
       Is still the heart's ease that the poets knew
        Take all the sweetness of a gift unsought,
         And for the pansies send me back a thought. 
 Pansies for ladies all--(I wis
 That none who wear such brooches miss
  A jewel in the mirror).  
 Pansies for ladies all--(I wis
 That none who wear such brooches miss
  A jewel in the mirror). 
 I pray, what flowers are these?
 The pansy this,
  O, that's for lover's thoughts.  
 I pray, what flowers are these?
 The pansy this,
  O, that's for lover's thoughts. 
And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
 Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell.
 It fell upon a little western flower,
  Before read more 
 Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell.
 It fell upon a little western flower,
  Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
   And maidens call it love-in-idleness. 
 Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for 
thoughts.  
 Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for 
thoughts.