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  Elie Etate Gollcge Genet.
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  A VOL. 7. A LEXINGTON, KY., APRIL, 1897. NO. 7. V
  EASTER TIDE.
  Oh, rare as the splendor of lilies,  
if And sweet as the violet’s breath, E
  Comes the jubilant morning of .Easter,
  A triumph of life over death ;
  For fresh from the eart-h’s quickened bosom
  Full baskets of flowers we bring, _ I
  And scatter their satin soft petals  
  T0 carpet a path for owr King. I
  In the countless green blades of the meadow,
  The sheen of the daifodil’s gold,
  In the tremulous blue on the mountains,
  The opaline mist on the wold;
  In the tinkle of brooks through the pasture,
  The river’s strong sweep to the sea,
  Are signs of the day that is hasting p
  In gladncss to you and to mc.
  So dawn in thy splendor of lilies,
  Thy fluttering violet breath,
  O jubilant morning of Easter,
p Thou triumph of life over death !
Q For fresh from the earth’s qnickened bosom
_,A. . Full baskets of flowers we bring, A
in And scatter their satin soft petals ¤ I
I To carpet a path for our King. ‘
T. -—-Dumb Animals.
    ., J