SICILY.

HEN hush! thou blossoming pear-tree bough !
An apricot-branch from the East art thou !

My daughter, thou handful of reddest rose !
What aileth my love, that she cannot repose?
My daughter, thou posy of laurel white,
Wherever thou passest, dost bring with thee light !
My daughter, thou sprig of sweet rosemary,
God’s angel doth greet thee in going by!

 

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