The little brown mice had eaten their last nut; the hedgehog was hungry and the crows were nearly giving in.
Then suddenly there came the sound of singing.
Play up! Play soon,
Keep time! Keep time!
Ye wavelets blue and tender,
Keep time! Keep time!
Burst ice and rime
In equinoctial splendor.
Up leaped Winter and stared with his hands over his brows.
Down below in the valley stood the Prince of Spring, young and straight in his green garb, with the lute slung over his shoulder. His long hair waved in the wind and his face was soft and round, his mouth was ever smiling and his eyes were dreamy and moist.
HOW SPRING AND WINTER MET
The Winter and the Spring were met:
The Winter threw a fleecy net,
And caught the young Spring over night.
He put to sleep the budding tree
Within a cloister dim and white;
And the little golden crocus flower,
That comes too early for the bee,
He hid away from sunrise hour.
The brook was conscious of his power
And lost its trick of babbling words.
But Spring awoke, despite his craft,
And out of windows looked and laughed.