A Song in Spring

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O little buds all bourgeoning with Spring,
You hold my winter in forgetfulness;
Without my window lilac branches swing,
Within my gate I hear a robin sing—
O little laughing blooms that lift and bless!

So blow the breezes in a soft caress,
Blowing my dreams upon a swallow’s wing;
O little merry buds in dappled dress,
You fill my heart with very wantonness—
O little buds all bourgeoning with Spring!

 

Thomas S. Jones, Jr., 1882-1932

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