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YOUNG LOVE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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40

YOUNG LOVE.

What's softer than a baby-wind new-born
Trying to kiss a whisper from a tree?
More constant to man's heart than sound o' th' sea
To the curl'd inlet of a sea-shell's horn?
What 's quieter than death of flower forlorn,
Uprooted where the pitiless sun can see?
Or facile weddings of the fragrant pea
That puts a ring on every fingery thorn?
What's gentler than a young rill's murmurings
So softly singing through its meadow-ways?
Or silenter than sun's unsparing gaze
The maiden blood in cherries' cheeks that brings?—
O 'tis young Love; for he a nest can raise
In hearts that never guess his busy wings.