Impressions (Classic Reprint)

Ls wafted to my nostrils, and its scent I breathe. Breathe. Bewitching perfume What mystic fairies' charm Is hidden by the road that winds past village, brook and farm; The fumes become o'er powering, as l steadily advance, And soon its source beholding, l gaze as in a trance, For no sight its equal met, in my travels as a rover, These poppies wild, and bluebells mild, and clover.

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