<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</SPAN></span></p>
<h3><SPAN name="XX" id="XX"></SPAN>XX</h3>
<h3><i>Pot-Pourri</i></h3>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">All my dead roses! Now I lay them here,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Shrined in a beryl cup. The mysteries<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Of their sweet hauntings and their witcheries<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Are not more subtle than this jewel clear,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Are not more cold and dead. The winter’s spear<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Has fallen on their heart, a heart so wise<br/></span>
<span class="i2">With lore of love. Dead roses. Beauty lies<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Hid in a perfume still supremely dear.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Roses of love, time killed you one by one,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Laughed at my pains as sad I gathered up<br/></span>
<span class="i0">All the fair petals banished from the sun.<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Witness my triumph—how the dead loves bless<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Life—from my heart, which is their beryl cup,<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Crowning the winter of my loneliness.<br/></span></div>
</div>
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