Littell's Living Age/Volume 173/Issue 2235/March Blossoms

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<poem> I.

Gathering the buds of blue-eyed March,

         Yonder I see her now:

The wild white violets at her feet,

         The robin on the bough.

I, too, must gather the blooms of spring;

         Ah there! I have it now —

The look that lights, like sudden fire,

         Her lip and cheek and brow.

We are but gathering early flowers:

         What think ye of it now,

Ye wild white violets at our feet,

         Thou robin on the bough?