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And the blueberries were wept for joy
And the swallows were sung so clearly
And the thought of rain was a cloud,
Violets were whispered dearly
And the pumpkins were laughed out loud.
And the cherries were sweat like blood
In the loving labor of naming the boy,
The word made flesh was the word made good,
And the blueberries were wept for joy.
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