To see her buds all busy hatching;
With tender green the woods are gay,
And birds, as is their April way,
Chirp merrily on the bough, and I
Chirp, too, because it's catching.
Full many a joy I must eschew
And to the tempter's voice "No! No!" say;
With taxes laid on all delights
Must miss, with other mirthful sights,
On Monday next my annual view