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Augusta Davies Webster - The Flower By The Path
Work rating: Low

A FLOWER was growing alone,
Then alone and for ever alone: 
Some one came by,
Saw the flower how fair it had grown, 
Chose it, plucked it to die.

And what is a flower alone,
Then alone and for ever alone, 
Come no one by?
Why should a flower be fair for its own?
 Choose it, pluck it to die.
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