Frances Sargent Locke Osgood
Last Lines
A breathing flower -- a half-blown rose?
And bid them bless my fairy girl!
Art thou smiling in thy bower still, -- and is thy smile for me?
I had now been safe in my native bower!
My Ellen! wake -- and tell it me!
My heart echoes to it "I love!"
No! in future disclaim the sweet theft if you dare!
Oh! sainted Marie! send this breaking heart relief!
That fade in Love's deserted bowers!
Unharm'd by tempest-shock, in Heaven's calm summer bower!
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