A drift of fragrance down a lane of spring;
Peach trees and pear trees spill their pink and white;
The lavender mountains loom, and mutely fling
Bold arms to clasp and quell the sunset light,—
An April spirit haunts the evening air,
Wistful and delicate and debonair.
Peach trees and pear trees spill their pink and white;
The lavender mountains loom, and mutely fling
Bold arms to clasp and quell the sunset light,—
An April spirit haunts the evening air,
Wistful and delicate and debonair.
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