Classic Poem

When the days are longer, longer,
And the sun shines stronger, stronger,
And the winds cease blowing, blowing,
And the winter's chance of snowing
Is lost in springtime weather;

And the brooks start running, running,
And the bee sits sunning, sunning,
And the birds come, bringing, bringing,
Such good news in their singing
Of love and springtime weather;

It may be—there's no knowing—
That then, when buds are blowing,
When birds are greeting, greeting,
And all things mating, meeting,
We two may come together,
And find our springtime weather.