Several hours glided sweetly by, and it was late in the day when Father Bonneville and I retrod our steps to our own dwelling, each full of thought.
[Conclusion in our next.
I WOO THEE, SPRING.
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BY WILLIAM ALBERT SUTLIFFE.
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I woo thee, Spring, and I wed thee, Spring,
To a kindly-thoughted lay,
And I sing thee, Spring, in thy blossoming,