Hail early harbinger of Spring!
Thy sight can glad remembrance bring
Of years fled by on swiftest wing,
Sweet snow-white flower;
I'll spend, thy humble praise to sing,
An idle hour.

Thou boast'st not beauty like the rose,
That ne'er the blasts of winter knows,
And lily-hand-protected glows
In ladies' bower;
Thou hid'st thy head amid the snows,
My bonny flower.

Yet will I seek the wild retreat,
Where early stray'd my youthful feet,
And with new joy thy presence greet,
Sweet snow-white flower;
Though youth has fled again we meet,
I feel thy power.

Thou hast not stay'd till warm suns smil'd,
And Spring's soft voice with whispers mild
First call'd thee forth; but cradl'd mid the tempest wild
Thou sprang to birth;
The image, thou, of many a child
Of modest worth.

Thus in misfortune's rudest storm
Will happiness uprear its form,
E'en on the brink of misery born,
And beauteous grow;
And smile with rosy tints of morn
O'er night of woe.