Sweet Spring


The spring it beams sweet on the green linnets wing
The wind ruffles soft on the ring-doves coy breast
And heedless the wild bees on spring blossoms hing
Sweed about by the wind as an unbidden guest
O I love the soft gush of the winds in the spring
And chaffinch in thorn hedges trying to sing.


I love the sweet spring i' the flowers o' the larch
Cones o' purple rich studding the starry leaves green
They got through the storms and the blusters o' March
And mix with the things that are fair to be seen
I love all the buds and the blossoms that Spring
O'er the earth in her leisure is welcome to bring.


I love the sweet Spring in its comeing at first
Flowering moss on the wall — swelling bud on the bush
I love the sweet flowers when they come one and all
First note of the c[h]affinch, first song of the thrush
I love the first sights o' the Spring as they come
The green o' the grass and the daisey in bloom.


The sunbeams that close to the hedges approach
Paints the sulphur hued primrose deliciously pale
And pilewort that shines like gold on a broach
And clusters o' violets scenting the gale
I love the first sight o' the Spring's bonny green
Where the lass she goes milking the cows i' the e'en.
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