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The Snowdrop


The snow and the rain are falling together,
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And there on my window-pane
The frost makes pictures out of my sighs—
As I watch for those everlasting eyes
That I shall not see again,
April or winter weather.

Yet the snowdrop whispers under the snow:
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"I too am dwelling beneath the ground,
But in spring you shall see me blow,
Like a long-lost jewel found;
And your two bright sleeping eyes
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Shall wake as they were before,
And your long-lost face shall rise
Through the soft green grave-yard floor.
There is much music underground,"
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Said the snowdrop under the snow.







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