Spring
I found a flower cup in a meadow; A thousand dew drops glittered round;A host of birds from leaf and shadow, As sunbeams, flitted to the ground.
Then suddenly the flower cup opened, The happy birds began to sing,The sun rose up in golden splendor, And then I knew—I knew—'twas spring!
Summer
Away, away on the wings of the robin, Away to the summerland calling afar;O the joy, the joy that abounds in just living, Hear the song of the thrush as he calls from his bower.
Awake, awake! it's the noontide of pleasure, Ah! gladness is fleeting, O drink to your fill;Arise, arise! to life's purest measure That thrilling resounds over meadow and hill.
Page Eighteen
