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HE winds of March are humming
 * Their parting song, their parting song,

And summer skies are coming,
 * And days grow long, and days grow long.

I watch, but not in gladness,
 * Our garden-tree, our garden-tree;

It buds, in sober sadness,
 * Too soon for me, too soon for me.
 * My second winter’s over,
 * Alas! and I, alas! and I
 * Have no accepted lover:
 * Don’t ask me why, don’t ask me why.

’Tis not asleep or idle
 * That Love has been, that Love has been;

For many a happy bridal
 * The year has seen, the year has seen;

I’ve done a bridemaid’s duty,
 * At three or four, at three or four;

My best bouquet had beauty,
 * Its donor more, its donor more.