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I come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
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I come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
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I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.
Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up read more
Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
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The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
A flower-garden smiling.
A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.
A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
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Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea.
Eternal Spring, with smiling Verdue here
Warms the mild Air, and crowns the youthful year.
. . read more
Eternal Spring, with smiling Verdue here
Warms the mild Air, and crowns the youthful year.
. . . .
The Rose still blushes, and the vi'lets blow.