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Closed Kids poem: Winters Spring

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Iam coming, I am coming !
Hark! the honey bee is humming;
See, the lark is soaring high
In the blue and sunny sky,
And the gnats are on the wing
Wheeling round in airy ring.


Listen ! New-born lambs are bleating,
And the cawing rooks are meeting
In the elms a noisy crowd.
All the birds are singing loud,
And the first white butterfly
In the sunshine dances by.


Look around you, look around !
Flowers in all the fields abound,
Every running stream is bright,
All the orchard trees are white,
And each small and waving shoot
Promises sweet autumn fruit.


- Mary Howitt
 
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