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For Ostara

Hail to white-clad Ostara, flower-maid,
within winter's grasp we see, so faintly,
pale green against white, purple crocuses
piercing the snow, through a thin crust of ice,
slowly but certainly you come to us.
Fair Ostara, distant one, longed-for one,
soft-stepping one, we welcome you once more.

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