Monday, May 14, 2012

Lady Lilac Comments

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Her perfume floats upon me in a perfect avalanche ;
' Glory Hallelujah!' shouts the tree toad on the branch.
She whispers to the silent night, that chilly days are
dead,
And the poorest little maiden has a bouquet by her bed.
Ah ! the pretty little maiden, with the early summer
blent,
...
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Robert Kirkland Kernighan
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