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DEE JOIRNAL 



CHICAGO, ILL, APRIL 4, 1901, 



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WEEKLY 



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•►•-•- .A. r^ PL I L -- ^ 



BY EUGENE SECOR 



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Did you hear the robin piping, 



Calling for his mate ? 

 He has just returned from Southland — 



But, perhaps, she's late. 

 He tells us the plum-trees will soon be in white 

 To witness his vows and the bird marriage-rite 



Did you see the prairie crocus 



Held in childish fist 

 Tight as lover holds his sweetheart 



At the evening tryst? 

 This brave little flower opens early to fling 

 Its largess of gold on the honey-bee's wing. 



Maples blush with rudd}' blossoms 



E'er the frost is gone; 

 And the showy golden willow 



Brightens on the lawn. 

 The barn-fowls are noisy, proclaiming each day 

 The debt which they owe and are trying to pay. 



Intersperst with cheer}' sunshine 



Weeping clouds appear, 

 But, together, they encourage 



Life with hope and cheer. 

 "The winter is past," every sleeping bud cries, 

 And seeds burst their caskets, determined to rise 



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