And balmy days their guerdons bring;
The Earth again is young and fair,
And amorous with musky Spring.
The golden nurslings of the May
In splendor strew the spangled green,
And hues of tender beauty play,
Entangled where the willows lean.
Mark how the rippled currents flow:
What lustres on the meadows lie!
And hark, the songsters come and go,