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For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered is grief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins. -Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909), When the Hounds of Spring Are on Winter's Traces |
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