Then live who may where honied words prevail,
I with the deer, and with the nightingale!
Lord Thurlow.
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SPRING.
Again the violet of our early days
Drinks beauteous azure from the golden sun,
And kindles into fragrance at his blaze;
The streams, rejoiced that winter’s work is done,
Talk of to-morrow’s cowslips, as they run. 5
Wild apple! thou art bursting into bloom;