| There once was a king, who called for the spring,
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| For his world was still covered with snow,
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| But the spring had not been, for he was wicked and mean,
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| In his winter fields nothing would grow;
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| And when a traveller called, seeking help at the door,
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| Only food and a bed for a night,
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| He ordered his slave to turn her away,
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| The girl with april in her eyes…
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| Oh, oh, oh, on and on she goes,
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| Through the winter’s night, the wild wind and the snow,
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| Hi, hi, hi, on and on she rides,
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| Someone help the girl with april in her eyes…
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| She rode through the night till she came to the light,
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| Of a humble man’s home in the woods,
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| He brought her inside, by the firelight she died,
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| And he buried her gently and good;
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| Oh the morning was bright, all the world snow-white,
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| But when he came to the place where she lay,
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| His field was ablaze with flowers on the grave,
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| Of the girl with april in her eyes…
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| Oh, oh, oh, on and on she goes,
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| Through the winter’s night, the wild wind and the snow,
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| Hi, hi, hi, on and on she flies,
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| She is gone, the girl with april in her eyes… |