OH ! the Spring's delight
Is the cowslip bright,
As she laughs to the warbling linnet,
And a whistling thrush
On a white May bush,
And his mate on her nest within it.

Summer she shows
Her rose, her rose!
And oh! all the happy night long
The nightingale woos her;
At dawn the lark sues her,
With the crystal surprise of his song.

King Autumn's crown
Is the barley brown,
Red over with rosy fruit;
And the yellow trees,
As they sigh in the breeze,
Are the strings of his solemn lute.
Old Winter's breath
Is cold as death,
'Tis lonesome he's left the earth;
Yet the thrush he sings,
And the rose she springs
From the flame of his fairy hearth.