Pink ruffs for the daisies, fair to behold,
New cups for the crocuses, yellow as gold,
Wherein shall the sunbeams tarry.
“The woods I will clothe in vestures bright,
Whose work shall be mine own doing,
Anemones there shall be found in white,
And bluebells ring by day and by night,
And girlies warble with new delight,
Old songs of loving and wooing!”
“But what do you bring, oh blithe New Year,