Out of May’s Shows Selected

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from Leaves of Grass: BOOK XXXIV. SANDS AT SEVENTY - by Walt Whitman.

 
  Apple orchards, the trees all cover’d with blossoms;
  Wheat fields carpeted far and near in vital emerald green;
  The eternal, exhaustless freshness of each early morning;
  The yellow, golden, transparent haze of the warm afternoon sun;
  The aspiring lilac bushes with profuse purple or white flowers.

 

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