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IN EARLY SPRING.
I WONDER who sent me these beautiful flowers!
O I wonder who was so kind
As to try and beguile these wearisome hours,
To banish all care from my mind.

Each floweret seems melting, aye melting in dew;
Of beauty, of fragrance so pure,
So exquisite are they, so lovely to view,
Wert sent by an angel, I'm sure.

How tender the blush on each petal, how rare,
How glossy these leaflets so green;
What is there so beautiful that will compare?
Yet nothing like them have I seen.

The first that adorns the wild wood and field,
Sweet treasures, the first of the spring;
Where, where, are the stores of fragrance concealed
Which gratefully round me they fling?

They quietly came by a bearer unknown,
So carefully clustered, behold!
A spell of enchantment around them is thrown,
A charm that can never be told.