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Hyacinths | ||
| Hyacinths of every hue, Crimson, white, and purple, too, Radiate a fragrance new, Telling us that winter's through. They assure us Christ has ris'n And that we can flee our pris'n. They confirm that life is new! All the deadly perils through. Hearts can glow with lasting cheer When the hyacinths appear. | ||
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