Birds with many colors gay,
Through the branches flitting,
Sing, to greet my Lady Love, a lusty welcome song.
Even bees make holiday,
Hive and honey quitting,
Tremulous and jubilant they join the eager throng.
Now the road is flower-paved;
Timid fawns are peering
From their pleasant vantage in the roadside’s leafy green.
All the world in sunlight laved,