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The playful breeze is dancing through the dell,
Breaking the azure crystal of the stream,
As if a shower of diamonds brightly fell,
And woke the blue waves from a pleasant dream.
The panting flowers have oped their shrivell'd lips,
To drink the dazzling moisture; the warm shower,
Like laughing mirth, has fill'd their wasted cups,
A living freshness clothes each drooping bower.
The hymn of rosy evening has begun;
The gladsome trees, that wave along the sky,
Shine in the golden glitter of the sun;
The birds that cower'd, as pass'd the rain cloudsy by,
Start from the glancing bushes, one by one,
And, leaping on the green and quivering spray,
Trim their cold dripping wings, to chant their evening lay.