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47

Art's Wonderland.

[[strikethrough]]
Poets have many a buried treasure, 
Far from common sight away,
Many a venus, formed divinely, 
Hidden from the light of day. 

Who shell tell Art's sacred wonders?-
[[strikethrough]] Only [[/strikethrough]] love alone can understand .
Poets dream o'er [[strikethrough]] homely [[/strikethrough]] woodland daisies-
Find [[strikethrough]] God [[/strikethrough]] [[?]] in lilies by the strand. 

In the violets, sweeter, ever, 
Than the perfume on the air, 
Is the unseen soul they cherish
As they dream and wonder there. [[/strikethrough]]

Transcription Notes:
This whole poem was crossed out, all but the title.