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THE GROSBEAK. 



*' How, when morning softly blushes, 

 At my window sitting near, 

 Hear I, from the alder-bushes, 

 Grosbeaks' notes, and songs of thrushes, 

 Welcoming the opening year ! 



While the amorous doves are cooing, 



Swallows darting here and there, 

 Dusky martins twittering, wooing. 

 Swift their flying mates pursuing 

 Through the soft and humid air." 

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