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Bluebonnets
Bluebonnets in the valleys, and bluebonnets climbing high Up the hillsides, till their fringes are so blended with the sky That the eye cannot distinguish where the sky's blue glory ends And the blue of the bluebonnets overlaps the sky and blends In a sweetness, and a blueness, and a purity, so blue That it seems a part of heaven; and the land where dreams come true Is so near us when bluebonnets bloom on hill and slope and flat That it seems as if we're walking out of this land into that.
The blue of the bluebonnets! It is bluer than the blue Of the bluest morning-glory with its blueness washed in dew; It is sweeter than the blueness of the hiding violet; 'Tis a blueness hearts remember and that souls cannot forget ; It is vivid as no rose is; when it calls you, "Come away," All at once you're young and walking in the fields of yesterday; All at once the gushing tears of all the long, long years are dried, And the love of youth is with you, laughing, walking by your side.
The bluebonnets! They were planted by the little angels' hands; Little angels, waiting for us there in heaven's happy lands; Long they knew our hearts were aching, that our days were full of rue, So they took a bit of heaven, a most vivid scrap of blue, And they shredded it up finer than the finest of fine sands, And they came at night and sowed it out across the Texas lands; And it grew, and it so blossomed that the lost ones we hold dear Know that loving them has brought us little bits of heaven here.
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