  A robin redbreast, fluting there Upon the apple-bough, Is telling all the world how fair Are apple-blossoms now; The honey-dew its sweetness spills From cuckoo-cups, and all The crocuses and daffodils Are drest for festival! Such pretty things are to be seen, Such pleasant things to do, The April earth it is so green, The April sky so blue, So joyous is to-day, Up, little ones! and dance along The lilac-scented way! |
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