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THE VOICE OF SPRING
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I come, I come! Ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountains 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.
© Felicia D. Hemans
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© E-publisher LiterNet, 13.01.2000, № 1 (2)
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