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Fair daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon:

As yet the early rising sun

Has not attained his noon.

Stay, stay,

Until the hasting day

Has run

But to the even-song;

And having prayed together we

Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,

We have as short a Spring;

As quick a growth to meet decay

As you, or any thing.

We die

As your hours do, and dry


Like to the Summer's rain;

Or as the pearls of morning dew

Ne'er to be found again.