Song of the Spring
I sing of the woods where the languid mosses dwell,
Of the shimmering forests of May which the sun loves well,
Of the gleaming gold of the jonquil buds that sway
In the soft caress of the evening breeze at play.
I sing of the silver stars that shine in the sky,
Of the argent glow of the moonbeams fluttering by,
Of the rainbow surf that breaks on the pallid sand,
Of the purple sea embracing the blossom-land.
I sing of the meadows a-bright with flowery dew,
Of the scarlet starling that soars from the desert blue,—
With the birds I sing of Love, Youth and all things gay,
For I am Delight, the Woodland Spirit of May!
Of the shimmering forests of May which the sun loves well,
Of the gleaming gold of the jonquil buds that sway
In the soft caress of the evening breeze at play.
I sing of the silver stars that shine in the sky,
Of the argent glow of the moonbeams fluttering by,
Of the rainbow surf that breaks on the pallid sand,
Of the purple sea embracing the blossom-land.
I sing of the meadows a-bright with flowery dew,
Of the scarlet starling that soars from the desert blue,—
With the birds I sing of Love, Youth and all things gay,
For I am Delight, the Woodland Spirit of May!
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