  LIGHTS Love, the timorous bird, to dwell, While summer smiles, a guest with you? Be wise betimes and use him well, And he will stay in winter too: For you can have no sweeter thing Within the heart’s warm nest to sing. The blue-plumed swallows fly away, Ere autumn gilds a leaf; and then Have wit to find another day The little clay-built house again: He will not know, a second spring, His last year’s nest, if Love take wing. |
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