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    From Spring Days To Winter (For Music)

    by Oscar Wilde
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    In the glad springtime when leaves were green,
    O merrily the throstle sings!
    I sought, amid the tangled sheen,
    Love whom mine eyes had never seen,
    O the glad dove has golden wings!

    Between the blossoms red and white,
    O merrily the throstle sings!
    My love first came into my sight,
    O perfect vision of delight,
    O the glad dove has golden wings!

    The yellow apples glowed like fire,
    O merrily the throstle sings!
    O Love too great for lip or lyre,
    Blown rose of love and of desire,
    O the glad dove has golden wings!

    But now with snow the tree is grey,
    Ah, sadly now the throstle sings!
    My love is dead: ah! well-a-day,
    See at her silent feet I lay
    A dove with broken wings!
    Ah, Love! ah, Love! that thou wert slain--
    Fond Dove, fond Dove return again!
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