Spring and Summer.
I heard a footstep on the hill,
The little brook began to trill,
I looked—a sweet and childlike face,
Reflected like a blooming vase,
Was smiling from the water clear,
With buttercups behind her ear.
I heard a footstep on the hill,
The little brook began to trill,
I looked—a sweet and childlike face,
Reflected like a blooming vase,
Was smiling from the water clear,
With buttercups behind her ear.