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But yesterday the earth drank like a child With eager thirst the antumn rain. Or like a wistful bride who waits the hour Of love's mysterious bliss and pain. And now the Spring is here with yearning eyes ; Midst shimmering golden flower-beds, On meadows carpeted with varied hues, In richest raiment clad, she treads. She weaves a tapestry of bloom o'er all, And myriad eyed young plants upspring. White, green, or red like lips that to the mouth Of the beloved one sweetly cling. Whence come these radiant tints, these blended beams ? Here 's such a dazzle, such a blaze, As though earth stole the splendor of the stars, Fain to eclipse them with her rays. Come 1 go we to the garden with our wine. Which scatters sparks of hot desire. Within our hand 't is cold, but in our veins It flashes clear, it glows like fire. It bubbles sunnily in earthen jugs. We catch it in the crystal glass,