II
Let the little birds sing;
Let the little lambs play;
Spring is here; and so 'tis spring;—
But not in the old way!
I recall a place
Where plum-tree grew;
There you lifted up your face,
And blossoms covered you.
If the little birds sing,
And the little lambs play,
Spring is here; and so 'tis spring—
But not in the old way!
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