Page:Poems by Ellen Russell Emerson.djvu/91

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Oh, for the songs of birds Sprinkled through the air; The air that's so chill, Like a heart that's still. Still with a pain it knows, Still as the hush of snows.

Oh, for the sweet, sweet joy, Of a new bright earth; The air that's so sweet, Where the blossoms meet, Tangled in tufts of green, Shafts of light between.