Louisa Lawson (1848-1920)
The white convolvulus, sweet, fragile flower
Ope'slits pure petals at day's tenderest hour,
And they who gaze upon its virgin face,
Know God is good, and take fresh heart of grace.
Al morn a joy, at eve a mem'ry sweet,
For it is death-struck by the noontide heat ;Fix this text
How fair, how frail, how fated, and ah me !
How true an emblem, dear dead girl of thee.
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