She caught the pretty wreath of Spring
And all the birds began to sing,
But when she thought to hold it tight
’T was rudely jerked from out her sight;
And while she looked for it in vain
The birds all flew away again.
Alas! The flowering wreath of Spring
Was fastened to a silken string,
And Time, the urchin, laughed for glee
(He held the other end you see).