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 Flowers of Spring Pussy-willows now appear— Harbingers of Spring— Driving from our hearts the fear, Rousing them to sing. Columbine and violets Peep from ‘neath the sod, Smiling thanks lest one forgets The graciousness of God. In among the brambles, there, Blossoms white and pink Scenting all the balmy air— Praising God, I think. Man, shall he be less thankful be Than the tiny flowers? He must sense divinity In their waking hours. ...

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