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Mar

25

 

SPRING SONG

HARK, I hear a robin calling!

And the orchard-bloom is falling

 List, the wind is from the south! 

Sweet as kisses on the mouth. 

In the dreamy vale of beeches

 Fair and faint is woven mist, 

And the river’s orient reaches

 Are the palest amethyst. 

Every limpid brook is singing

 Of the lure of April days; 

Every piney glen is ringing

 With the maddest roundelays. 

Come and let us seek together

 Springtime lore of daffodils, 

Giving to the golden weather

 Greeting on the sun-warm hills. 

Ours shall be the moonrise stealing

 Through the birches ivory-white; 

Ours shall be the mystic healing

 Of the velvet-footed night. 

Ours shall be the gypsy winding

 Of the path with violets blue, 

Ours at last the wizard finding

 Of the land where dreams come true. 

LM Montgomery

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I cannot remember the time when I was not writing, or when I did not mean to be an author image

 

~ Lucy Maud Montgomery

 
L.M. Montgomery is a trademark of Heirs of L.M. MontgomeryInc.