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Read our Poets: they shall weave
A garden of green fancies still,
Where thy wish may rove at will.
They have kept for after-treats
The essences of summer sweets,
And echoes of its songs that wind
In endless music through the mind.
They have stamped in visible traces

The "thoughts that breathe": in words that shine
The flights of soul in sunny places
To greet and company with thine.

T. HOOD.

HOEKZEMA, Poetry. 4th Ed.

1

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

2. THE VOICE OF SPRING.

I am coming, little maiden!
With the pleasant sunshine laden,
With the honey for the bee,
With the blossom for the tree,
With the flower and with the leaf:
Till I come, the time is brief.

I am coming, I am coming!
Hark! the little bee is humming;
See! the lark is soaring high
In the bright and sunny sky;
And the gnats are on the wing,
Wheeling round in airy ring.

See! the yellow catkins cover
All the slender willows over;
And on banks of mossy green
Star-like primroses are seen;

And, their clustering leaves below,

White and purple violets blow.

Hark! the new-born lambs are bleating;

And the cawing rooks are meeting

In the elms a noisy crowd!
All the birds are singing loud;
And the first white butterfly
In the sunshine dances by.

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