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James Russell Lowell


Who cometh over the hills,

Her garments with morning sweet,

The dance of a thousand rills

Making music before her feet?

Her presence freshens the air;

Sunshine steals light from her face;

The leaden footstep of Care

Leaps to the tune of her pace,

Fairness of all that is fair,

Grace at the heart of grace,

Sweetener of hut and of hall,

Bringer of life out of naught,

Freedom, oh, fairest of all

The daughters of Time and Thought!