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On a Lane in Spring A Little Lane, the brook runs close beside And spangles in the sunshine while the fish glide swiftly by And hedges leafing with the green spring tide From out their greenery the old birds fly And chirp and whistle in the morning sun The pilewort glitters ‘neath the pale blue sky The little robin has its nest begun And grass green linnets round the bushes fly How Mild the Spring Comes in; the daisy buds Lift up their golden blossoms to the sky How lovely are the pingles and the woods Here a beetle runs; and there a fly Rests on the Arum leaf in bottle green And all the Spring in this Sweet lane is seen John Clare (1793-1864)