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In Angwin, the murky days of winter are over when we see the lilacs blooming in the back yard. Lilac time reminds us of the terribly sad poetic memoir of Abraham Lincoln by Walt Whitman, "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd."
But it also reminds us of a more delightful poem, which speaks of the lilacs blooming in Kew Gardens, London. So here is an excerpt from a longer poem by Alfred Noyes that like a catchy tune will come back to you at lilac times future. Enjoy.
Go down to Kew in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time. Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London). And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland. Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London).
The cherry-trees are seas of bloom and soft perfume and sweet perfume. The cherry-trees are seas of bloom (and oh, so near to London!). And there they say, when dawn is high and all the world's a blaze of sky. The cuckoo, though he's very shy, will sing a song for London.
The nightingale is rather rare and yet they say you'll hear him there, At Kew, at Kew in lilac-time (and oh, so near to London). The linnet and the throstle, too, and after dark the long halloo, And golden-eyed tu-whit, tu-whoo of owls that ogle London.
For Noah hardly knew a bird, of any kind, that isn't heard, At Kew, at Kew in lilac-time (and oh, so near to London). And when the rose begins to pout and all the chestnut spires are out, You'll hear the rest, without a doubt, all chorusing for London.
Come down to Kew in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time. Come down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London). And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland. Come down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London)
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