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 Seem’d to have summon’d here; and smiled From them at each happy child. With shouts of bliss, “See that!” “See this!” Gathering, gathering, Round the clearing they sport and spring, And still as they gather’d, more and more, Glow’d and glister’d the flowery floor.

Then, out of the creek, with loving and thanks, They shower’d cool drops on each, Carried up careful handfuls, To such as were out of reach— And ran along further. Butterflies, Primrose, crimson, and cream, Powder’d, purfled, with gold, and some Pure sea-satin, all silver-blue, Like fly-away flowers before them flew, And show’d them the way to come. And the lambs leap’d with them, the nested Lark Blithe at their feet did sing, The Tussock glitter’d, the Locust twitter’d, The Mako-mak’ pull’d and gave to them Green feathers from her wing. Like a lyric, a song, they lilted along, Like blossoms, they lit their road, And presently like a freshet of Spring, Round the desolate house they flow’d.

There in the garden, as though to meet them Brotherly-wise, to welcome and greet them, Shining up from its sheath, all new, Buoyant of curve, brilliant of hue,