Classic Poem

Twist-Rime on Spring

Upon the hills new grass is seen;
The vender's garden-sass is green.

The birds between the showers fly;
The woods are full of flowers shy.

The ornamental butterfly
Expands his wings to flutter by.

The bees, those little honey-bugs,
Are gayly dancing bunny-hugs,

While poets sing in tripping rime
That Spring's a simply ripping time!English