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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 17, No. 101, March, 1866

Part 2 — SNOW.

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The Summer comes, and the Summer goes. Wild-flowers are fringing the dusty lanes, The sparrows go darting through fragrant rains, And, all of a sudden,—it snows! Dear Heart! our lives so happily flow, So lightly we heed the flying hours, We only know Winter is gone—by the flowers, We only know Winter is come—by the Snow!

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