by Edward Alan Bartholomew 

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Merry Blossoms,

Whence do we spring?

Whence comes the joy

Our blooming mouths bring? 

Merry Blossoms,

Drapery & dress,

Our flowery frock

And choral caress

Fall upon eyes

And ears of the bees:

How our cherry fresh blush

And merry airs please! 

Merry Blossoms,

Hence do we spring:

It is from the tree buds

Our blooming mouths sing!

We sing to the fruits

To the seeds & the sprouts

To the saplings & trees

And all without!