Classic Poem

Oh, Spring is coming, coming, treading softly on the snow,
And the drifts are slowly melting with the pressure and the glow,
There's a waking and a thrilling in the heart with life aglow
That has throbbed through all the winter, underneath the frozen snow.

Let others sing of summer, with its wavy, grassy seas,
Or of glorious, gorgeous autumn, with her crimson, flaming trees,
Or of hoary bearded winter, with its days of glassy clam,
But I will sing the springtime with its tenderness and balm.

I stretch my arms to greet her, and my lips return her kiss,
I accept the joy she offers and I drink her cup of bliss.
Oh, my heart is throbbing, thrilling with a joy I cannot tell,
As I wave my hand to winter in a jubilant farewell.