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AIL! warbling harbinger of Spring!
 * How soft thy wild notes fill the breeze!

Raptured, I hear thy fluttering wing,
 * Low murmuring ’mong the leafless trees.
 * Now when all lone and drear

Bleak Winter holds her gloomy reign, And spreads afar her wide domain, O’er brake and dell, and lawn and plain,
 * With joy thy notes we hear;

Their simple strains a charm impart, Dear to the languid, aching heart.

Say, hast thou left yon mountains mild,
 * Where southern gales ambrosial blow?

To cheer our fields now lone and wild,
 * And ice-chained valleys clad in snow,
 * The opening spring to hail?

To bring the rosy charms of May, The feathered choir of warblers gay, And clothe in Nature’s green array,
 * The mountain and the vale?