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"The spring-time of love Is both happy and gay, For joy sprinkels [sic] blossoms And balm in our way, The sky, earth, and ocean In beauty repose, And all the bright future Is couleur de rose.

The winter of love Is the beam that we win, While the storm howls without, From the sunshine within, Love's reign is eternal The heart is his throne, And he has all seasons Of life for his own." S. C Mar. 8/60