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A gathering of blossoms

Pick me no flowers. Leave them yet awhile On fragrant branch Or staggered up the hill, Rampant in garden, Hidden in the swale, Tucked into crannies, Smiling from the sill. Pick me no single blossom Wild or tame. Hawkweed and orchid, Leave them where they stand. To all my eyes can gather I lay claim, Holding them in my heart, Not in my hand.