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THE TRYST OF SPRING.
STERN Winter sought the hand of Spring, And, tempered to her milder mood, Died leafless on the budding breast He fondly wooed.
She wept for him her April tears, But, from the shadows wandering soon, Dreamed of a warmer love to come With lordly June.
He scatters roses at her feet, And sunshine o'er her queenly brow, And through the listening silence breathes A bridal vow.
She answers not; but, like a mist O'er-brimmed and tremulous with light, In sudden tears she vanishes Before his sight.