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The inundation of the Spring
Enlarges every soul —
It sweeps the tenement away
But leaves the Water whole —
In which the soul at first estranged —
Seeks faintly for its shore
But acclimated — pines no more
For that Peninsula — -
The Notice that is called the Spring
Is but a month from here —
Put up my Heart thy Hoary work
And take a Rosy Chair.
Not any House the Flowers keep —
The Birds enamor Care —
Our salary the longest Day
Is nothing but a Bier.
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