A REVERIE.

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O glad shall I be when the winter is ended,
When the wild sweeping blasts of the season are gone,
When the last flakes of snow to the ground have descended,
And the drifts have all vanished from meadow and lawn.
O glad shall I be when these cold days are over,
And the bright joys of summer are with us again;
When the meadows are blooming with sweet-scented clover,
And the warm sun is smiling on new fields of grain.
O glad shall I be, when as free as the air
The birds are all singing their merriest lay,
To remind me of days when I knew naught of care,
And the seasons all seemed like a long summer day.
O spring! merry spring! with thy fragrance of flowers,
To thee from my sorrows I longingly turn;—
I’ll forget the drear scenes of these long winter hours,
And dream of thy blessings and happy return.
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