Spring
With the vibrant harp o' the west wind Thou, O gracious one, came;From the dew-steeped rim of a flower cup Thou rose, beautiful spring.
Like the fleeting dance of a sunbeam Joy must ever depart;But in tryst of happy abiding Thou, spring, entered my heart.
Summer
A little brook chattered so merrily by, Singing a song as it babbled along,Telling each comer the cheer of the summer, While close to its banks clung a white butterfly.
The birds in the rushes oft sung to the flowers; Long happy notes rose from warbling throats,Sweet as the June in enchantment and tune, And bees labored on through the long happy hours.
Page Eleven
