Ah, Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun
Seeking after that sweet golden clime,
Where the traveller's journey is done:
Who countest the steps of the Sun
Seeking after that sweet golden clime,
Where the traveller's journey is done:
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves and aspire
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
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