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THE bubbling brook doth leap when I come by, Because my feet find measure with its call; The birds know when the friend they love is nigh,

For I am known to them, both great and small.

The flower that on the lonely hill-side grows Expects me there when Spring its bloom has given;

And many a tree and bush my wanderings knows,

And e'en the clouds and silent stars of heaven;

For he who with his Maker walks aright,

And cherry-blossoms, and white caps whose Shall be their lord as ADAM was before;

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