And Spring comes apace, and all nature in life
Is now quickened to action more free,
And the flowers are springing in valley and dell,
And green grows the shrub and the tree.
I long for a sight of the squirrels so gay,
As they spring up the trees on the hill,
I long for a sight of the waters that flow
And that sing as they turn the old mill.
I long for the songs of the birds in the grove,
As they sing, at the sweet early dawn,