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84

MAY: 1859.

The meadow-wooing Spring doth not forget
To smile upon our toilsome city squares,
Though men perceive her not—like schoolboys set
To daily tasks, and bent with life-long cares;
Yet, even in our thraldom, have we met
The light of bluer than the winter sky
At office-windows—something freer yet,
Than lately breathed, in zephyrs passing by;
Aye, and in yon walled church-yard can espy
Green rustling branches:—O to be away!
To list the birds sing and the breezes sigh
In well remembered valleys! Thou and I,
Dear Love, would roam once more a truant day,
Living as we were wont to live in May.