The hazel is it madness kitten sings 
Daffodils will grow cervical 
The slopes are shown through the remnants of mist 
The sky turns joyous leaving its vapor 
Cattle will not be long to cross the barrier 
The lifting fog, magic moment 
The hamlet leaves caress 
They have branches that are quaint but and began to pleasure 
The wind chills of a shy merely fine lines on the pond 
In the purity of a spring morning before the hours exalted forms 
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