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I stopped to wait
At the humming-bee tree
A pure white Hawthorn
Shimmering with music
Beside the wild white rose
Whose fragrance perfumes
The dew-sweet air
Swifts dart, high overhead
Yell their presence
with lusty joy
Distant Curlews call
And there, an amber hare
by the golden gorse
Sits proud and tall
Waits so I can see
Looks at me
With piercing eye
Then races away
To haunt my day

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