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A Little Song

A RIPPLE and a rush, and a mating thrash,
And, oh! the month must be at May.
A blossom and a tree, and a honey-bee,
And, oh! it’s such a perfect day!
 
A meeting and a smile, and a sunlit mile.
And, oh! the world is very young.
Come winter, storm or cold.
Love never can grow old.
And oh! my little song is sung!
Other works by Radclyffe Hall...



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