All The Sweet Things From The Night
P
Peter S. Quinn
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All the sweet things from the night:
like perfumed air in bluest sight,
day is born a wish
from my dreaming bliss,
- when a star has lost its flight!
Yes now is the time to be
when sunshine comes easily,
into my garden
for spring's start en',
- to grow into colors free!
This my love shall always know,
I am hers with every glow;
again earth's born
from under careworn,
- winter's grave in grayish snow.
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