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Theophile Marzials
1850 - 1920


To-day what is there in the air

That makes December seem sweet May?

There are no swallow anywhere,

Nor crocuses to crown your hair

And hail you down my garden way.

Last night the full moon's frozen stare

Struck me, perhaps; or did you say

Really --- you'd come, sweet Friend and fair !


To-day is here: come !    crown to-day

With Spring's delight or Spring's despair !

Love can not bide old Time's delay: ---

Down my glad gardens light winds play,

And my whole soul shall bloom and bear



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