I feel just like the brook, I know;
It says, it seems to me,—
"Good by, cold weather, ice, and snow;
Now girls and brooks are free."
I love to think of what you said,
Mother, to me last night,
Of this great world that God has made,
So beautiful and bright.
And now it is the happy spring
No naughty thing I'll do;
I would not be the only thing
That is not happy, too.
[SPRING.]
Hark! the little birds are singing,—
Winter's gone and summer's near;
See, the tender grass is springing,
And the flowers will soon be here.
Who made the winter and the spring?
Who painted all the flowers?
Who taught the little birds to sing,
And made these hearts of ours?
O, 'tis God! how good he is!
He does every blessing give;
All this happy world is his,—
Let us love him while we live.