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And In The Spring
And in the spring, when roses bloom,
I'll gather bushels for your room
To brighten up its wintry gloom,
For you were once so gay.
And in the summer, I'll leave you then,
Put out the light, put down my pen,
And wander through the leafy glen.
You will not bid me stay.
And in the autumn, when breezes turn,
And bright leaves on the high bows burn,
Oh, in the autumn, I'll return
Because I love you so.
And in the winter's cold and damp
I'll bar the door and light the lamp,
And there I'll make my final camp
'Til I join you down below.