The poets told thy birth Was welcomed upon earth By the sweet multitude of shining flowers,
By bursting buds, green leaves, and sunny hours.

When Spring came on with fresh delight
To cheer the soul, and charm the sight,
While every easy breezes, softer rain
And warmer suns salute the plain.

Flowers rejoice when night is done,
Lift their heads to greet the sun;
Sweetest looks and odours raise,
In a silent hymn of praise.

If April showers
Should come your way,
They bring the flowers
That bloom in May.

We bring roses, beautiful fresh roses,
Dewy as the morning and colored like the dawn.

A little longer yet — a little longer, Shall violets bloom for thee, and sweet birds sing; And the lime branches where soft winds are blowing, Shall murmur the sweet promise of the Spring!

As the birds do love the spring,
Or the bees their careful king

Such cold mean flowers the spring puts forth betime,
Before the sun hath thoroughly heat the clime.

The buttercups across the field Made sunshine rifts of splendour.

The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies.
The merry bells ring
To welcome the spring.
The skylark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around,
To the bells’ cheerful sound,
While our sports shall be seen
On the echoing green.

So sweet, so sweet, the roses in their blowing,
So sweet the daffodils, so fair to see;
So blithe and gay the humming-bird a-going
From flower to flower, a-hunting with the bee.

And the Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

A thousand songs from a thousand boughs
The glad birds' pleasure declare ;
The rills are laughing in crystal light—
For the presence of Spring is there.

I send thee pansies while the year is young,
Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night; Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung
By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light.