"The first of May! There is a merry freshness in the sound, calling to our minds a thousand thoughts of all that is pleasant and beautiful in nature, in her sweetest and most delightful form. What man is there, over whose mind a bright spring morning does not exercise a magic influence -- carrying him back to the days of his childish sports, and conjuring up before him the old green field with its gently-waving trees, where the birds sang as he had never heard them since -- where the butterfly fluttered far more gaily than he ever sees him now, in all his ramblings -- where the sky seemed bluer, and the sun shone more brightly -- where the air blew more freshly over greener grass, and sweeter-smelling flowers -- where everything wore a richer and more brilliant hue than it is ever dressed in now!"
--Dickens, Sketches by Boz
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