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��WALK IN SPRING.
��I wander'd in a lonely glade,
Where, issuing from the forest shade,
A little mountain stream Along the winding valley play'd, Beneath the morning beam.
Light o'er the woods of dark brown oak The west-wind \vTeathed the hovering smoke
From cottage roofs conceai'd, Below a rock abruptly broke,
In rosy light reveal'd.
�� �
