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To Willie and Henrietta

 If two may read aright 
These rhymes of old delight 
And house and garden play, 
You too, my cousins, and you only, may.
You in a garden green With me were king and queen, Were hunter, soldier, tar, And all the thousand things that children are.
Now in the elders' seat We rest with quiet feet, And from the window-bay We watch the children, our successors, play.
"Time was," the golden head Irrevocably said; But time which one can bind, While flowing fast away, leaves love behind.

Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Book: Shattered Sighs