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There was a cherry-tree. Its bloomy snows Cool even now the fevered sight that knows No more its airy visions of pure joy— As when you were a boy. There was a cherry-tree. The Bluejay set His blue against its white—O blue as jet He seemed there then!—But now— Whoever knew He was so pale a blue! There was a cherry-tree—our child-eyes saw The miracle:—Its pure white snows did thaw Into a crimson fruitage, far too sweet But for a boy to eat. There was a cherry-tree, give thanks and joy!— There was a bloom of snow—There was a boy— There was a bluejay of the realest blue— And fruit for both of you. |