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Rh O let some past deceived one hiss in your ears, how
 * many have prest on the same as you are pressing
 * now,

How many have fondly supposed what you are supposing
 * now—only to be disappointed.



taste, (For I must change the strain—these are not to be
 * pensive leaves, but leaves of joy,)

Roots and leaves unlike any but themselves, Scents brought to men and women from the wild
 * woods, and from the pond-side,

Breast-sorrel and pinks of love—fingers that wind
 * around tighter than vines.

Gushes from the throats of birds, hid in the foliage
 * of trees, as the sun is risen,

Breezes of land and love—Breezes set from living
 * shores out to you on the living sea—to you,
 * O sailors!

Frost-mellowed berries, and Third Month twigs, offered
 * fresh to young persons wandering out in
 * the fields when the winter breaks up,

Love-buds, put before you and within you, whoever
 * you are,

Buds to be unfolded on the old terms, If you bring the warmth of the sun to them, they will
 * open, and bring form, color, perfume, to you,

If you become the aliment and the wet, they will
 * become flowers, fruits, tall branches and trees,