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FIRST LOVE.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

FIRST LOVE.

With snow-white, lily-hand she softly bound
The healing herb upon my wounded heart;
But, as she healed the deep, life-taking wound,
Her own was stabbed beyond the reach of art.
Not as the husbandman the yellow ear,
Whose ripeness seems to chide his lazy hand;
I drew her eagerly my bosom near,
And—sat down with her on the snow-white sand.
New York, April 5th, 1839.