by Pearl
Hark! I hear a soft low whisper O'er the gentle breeze of May, And a sweet voice seems to tell me Spring has come at to-day,
Spring has come with joy and sunshine, To awaken the sleeping flowers; The bluebells in the Woodlands, And the violets in the bowers.
See! the flowers that are awaking, Decked afresh in garments gay, Parting from their little nightcaps, Tulips, cowslips and sweet may.
Look! the little lambs are bleating Romping on the hill and glen, And the joyous birds are signing "Spring is coming. Hark! ye men."
Once again the brook is running Through the meadows, fresh and gay, Passing 'neath the shady willows And the elm trees on its way.
It is God who made the Spring-time With its fair gifts so sweet and dear That we too, like birds and flowers, Might love the Spring-time of the year.