The month of March has come again
With blowing, snowing blast;
The winds are piercing in their search,
But come too late to last.
But as the month will onward march,
The winds will warmer grow;
Until 'tis seen the earth is green
And vanished has the snow.
Then comes the sweetest time of all,
When sap flows up the tree;
When sugar-makers busy are
A-making cakes for me.
For I'm the girl who likes the cakes
Made from that sugar sweet—
They're better far than all the gum
That's chewed upon the street.
This is the time I like so well
And wish 'twere always here.
Of all the months that call around
I think March sweetest of the year.

APRIL

The welcome month of April,
With sunshine and with showers,
Sets all the buds to swelling
And brings the early flowers.
And nature now has wakened
From her long and wintry sleep,
And dandelions are peeping
In the grasses at our feet.
The bullfrog loud is calling
From the pond or running stream,
And the nesting birds are cooing
In their early "love's young dream."
The hop-toad in the cellar
Thinks he'll take a look without,
And old shanghi on the fence
Crows and flops his wings about.
And I am just as happy
As the butterfly or bee,
For the showery month of April
Is a welcome month to me.

MAY

The sweetest time of all the year
Is when the month of May draws near.
The air is sweet with rich perfume
That comes from apple-trees in bloom.
The peach-tree sheds its fragrance too,
And sips alike its share of dew.
The lilac blooms and shows its right
To make this month a flowery sight.
The pansy lifts her welcome face
From out her long-leaved hiding-place.
The violet blossoms as of old
And shows her color true as gold.
The brooks they ripple as they go
From brink to brink, in ceaseless flow.
The lark sails high on upward wing—
All Nature's glad to greet the spring.
The wild flowers blossom in the wood,
And all proclaim that God is good.
Of all the months I'd have to stay
It is the flowery month of May.