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And this poem is called the Blackthorn Fairy By Cicely Mary Barker The wind is cold, the Spring seems long a-waking; The woods are brown and bare; Yet this is March: soon April will be making All things most sweet and fair See, even now, in hedge and thicket tangled One brave and cheering sight: The leafless branches of the Blackthorn Spangled with starry blossoms white! From Letras Mania