O Spring, I've lov'd thee from my earliest youth

OS PRING , I've lov'd thee from my earliest youth;
Have dearly loved thy songs and open flowers;
I've lain and dreamt sweet dreams within thy bowers,
And ev'n now love thee with a first love's truth.
O whence this fond endearment? Whence this thrill?
This deep emotion, which through every limb
Runs like a current of new life to him
Who has escaped from death? Is it that hill,
Green hill, and sunny vale, and sparkling stream,
And gladsome bird — so like on wanton wing
The being that I was, in my life's spring,
When youth was love and sorrow but a dream, —
Bring to my mind assurance of the day,
When youth renewed shall burst this mortal clay?
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