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Francis Ledwidge - Spring and AutumnFrancis Ledwidge - Spring and Autumn
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Green ripples singing down the corn,     With blossoms dumb the path I tread,     And in the music of the morn     One with wild roses on her head.     Now the green ripples turn to gold     And all the paths are loud with rain,     I with desire am growing old     And full of winter pain.
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