Somnambulist, where all the Spring have you been?
Wake up and you’ll notice the trees are now green;
Come out of your hideaway, put down your words,
Forget you your studying, look at the birds,
The martins are back, nesting high in the roof,
Take pleasure in Nature and be not aloof,
Rise ye with the lark, roll your maid in the grass,
And waste not the warm days - too soon will they pass.
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