Classic Poem

See , see a metamorphosis,
The late gray field now verdant is.
The sun with warm beams glads the earth,
And to the springing flowers
He gives a new and lively birth
By th'aid of gentle showers.
The lambs no longer bleat for cold,
Nor cry for succor from the old:
But frisk and play with confidence
Like emblems of true innocence.

Chorus.

The cheerful birds their voices strain,
The cuckoo's hoarse for want of rain.
The nightingale doth sweetly sing,
To welcome in the joyful Spring.