Springtime

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Springtime

Again it is the vibrant May,

The bursting buds, the leafing trees,

The fragrant, undulating breeze,

Call to my heart in subtlest way:

Come! Come! it is a holiday.

The streamlet with unending song,

Beneath its silver veil of mist

Seems flowing, flowing, to some tryst,

While I⁠—with inner surges strong,

Find incomplete the day, and long.