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Normale Version: A Birthday Sonnet
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A Birthday Sonnet

(To M.E.S.)

ON this new World when thou first oped thine eyes
The bees and birds were busy on the wing,
The trees were robing in their summer guise,
And Earth was glorious with the full-blown Spring;
And that elixir which renews the year
And brings more radiant skies and sprightlier strains,
That scents the rose and fills the harvest ear,
The exhilarant Spring transfused through all thy veins;
But soon, alas, the Spring of birds and flowers
With langour sickens in the year's hot noon,
And bears the ordeal of the fiery hours
To shrink and shiver in the frosts of June:
But though of Spring's delight the year is shorn,
With thee 'tis ever Spring, and Youth, and Morn.