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Poem by Augusta Webster * * * YOUNG May sat fainting and chill, And neither could live nor die; She looked and hated the sky, Yet knew not what was her ill. Ah well-a-day! For the lonely May. She tired of weeping, and slept; Who woke her up but the Sun? And joy and love had begun To teach her why she had wept Oh bright new day For the startled May! Augusta Webster Augusta Webster's other poems:
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