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come the days when orchards bloom,
 * And lilacs are unfolding,

And Nature from the winter's tomb
 * Fresh loveliness is moulding,

When in the woods there rise anew Anemone and meadow-rue, And everywhere the violets blue
 * High carnival are holding.

When, touched by changing sun and shower,
 * The chestnut buds are filling,

And purple hyacinths each hour
 * Fresh fragrance are distilling,

When here and there enchanting notes Come ringing from impassioned throats, And flash of blue or scarlet coats
 * Sets all one's pulses thrilling.