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Poem by John Payne
THE wild bird carolled all the April night, Among the leafing limes, as who should say, "Lovers, have heed; here cometh in your May, When you shall walk in woods and heart's delight Have in the fresh-flowered fields and spring's sweet sight!" And truly, with the breaking of the day, Came the glad month and all the world was gay With lilac-breath and blossoms red and white. Oh moon of love, how shall the snowtide do To wind the world again with winter-death, Whilst in our hearts the thought of thee is blent With memories more sweet than honey-dew Of all thy nights and days of ravishment, Thy birds, thy cowslips, and thy hawthorn's breath?
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