WHEN winter's cold tempests and snows are no more,
Green meadows and brown-furrowed fields reappearing,
The fishermen hauling their shad to the shore,
And cloud-cleaving geese to the Lakes are a-steering;
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too hard, got 30 on my test > : (. BTW bot boy thinks this is sum sort of duplicate, - -> y
What a delight it was to read this poem Alexander. Thank you sir for sharing
YES YES YES YES YES YES YES THIS IS SO LEGIT OMFG OMFG! ! ! ! ! ! YES! ! ! ! GOOD POEM 11241421413434324324141/10 YEAH! ! ! !