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Ke them, unless<br />
some angel would bring me some from those sunset<br />
clouds yonder." "And oh, dear uncle, what lovely primroses!" pursued Agnes, taking up<br />
another paper. "Yes, chil <img src="cid:1271005856_assails"> d; but you should have seen them when I was coming down<br />
the south side of the Apennines;--these were everywhere so pale and sweet, they seemed like the humility of our Most Blessed Mother in her lowly mortal state. I am minded to make a border<br />
of primroses to the leaf in the Breviary where is<br />
the 'Hail, Mary!'--for it seems as if that flower doth ever say, 'Behold the handmaid of the Lord!'" "And<br />
what will you do with the cyclamen, uncle? does not that mean something?" "Yes, daughter," replied the monk, readily<br />
entering into that symbolical strain which permeated all the heart and mind of<br />
<br />
the religious of his day,--"I _can_ see a meaning in it. For you see that the cyclamen puts forth its leaves in early spring deeply engraven with mystical characters, and loves cool shadows, and moist, dark places,<br />
<br />
but comes at length to wear
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