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buds are on the maple,
 * Thrilling notes are in the air,

There is green upon the hillside—
 * There is beauty everywhere.

In the woods pale starry blossoms
 * Rise like spirits frail and fair.

From the fence the flash of blue wings
 * Gives the heart a sudden stir,

From the thicket by the wayside
 * What sweet melodies occur!

(O, the unseen hands that beckon
 * From the heart of days that were!)

All along the dreaming meadows
 * There are voices faint but clear,—

Wake, my heart, and listen, listen,
 * If perchance thou mayest hear

Wordless messages that carry
 * Only to the spirit ear.