Classic Poem

Farewell to the frost and the snow!
The streams are beginning to flow;
The forest is ringing,
The green grass is springing,
And softly the warm breezes blow;
While sweet-scented flowers again
Are blooming on hill, dale and plain.

The thrush, on the evergreen hill,
Is tuning his musical trill;
And, when eve is falling,
We hear, loudly calling,
The note of the wild whippoorwill;
While the turtle, far down in the grove,
Is cooing all day to his love.

The Springtide of Life may thus seem
To pass in a Fairy-like dream;
The woods are resounding,
The young blood is bounding,
And bright flows the murmuring stream
Yet childhood can never prolong
This dream-land of flower and song!

While mirth then and music-abound,
Oh! plant thy seed deep in the ground!
The breezes and showers
Shall first bring thee flowers,
And soon the ripe fruit shall be found;
Thus shalt thou have treasure in store,
When Springtide and Summer are o'er.