A Spring Song.

—William Cox Bennett.

LONG has been the winter,

Long—long—in vain

We’ve sought the bud upon the bough,

The primrose in the lane.

Long have skies been dull and gray,

Nipping’s been the blast;

But, sing! Summer’s coming!

The bee’s out at last.

Sing! Winter’s flying;

Summer’s coming fast;

Humming hope and Spring-time,

The bee’s out at last.

 

Loud shouts the cuckoo;

The nested elm round,

Wheels the rook, cawing;

There are shadows on the ground.

Warm comes the breeze and soft,

Freezing days are past.

Sing! Summer’s coming!

The bee’s out at last.

Sing! Winter’s flying;

Summer’s coming fast;

Humming hope and Spring-time,

The bee’s out at last.

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