Thy pathway is strewn with flowers;
And vainly stern Winter, with brow of gloom,
Attempted for awhile
To check thy coming--he had to bow
To the might of thy sunny smile.

A touch of thy wand, and our streams and lakes
Are freed from his tyrant sway,
And their clear blue depths in ripples of gold
Reflect back the sun's bright ray;
Whilst e'en the rude rocks that their waters fret
Put on mosses green and bright,
And silent, deep homage render up now,
Sweet Spring, to thy magic might.

And what words could tell half the wond'rous change
Thou mak'st in our forest bowers,
Replacing the snow with soft velvet sward,
Cold crystals with glowing flowers;
Clothing the leafless, unsightly trees
In rich garb of satin sheen,
And robing the meadows and woodlands wide
In thine own soft tender green.

And the insect life that thy warm breath wakes
Now people earth and air;
And the carolling birds have come back to dwell
In the charms of thy presence fair.
Need we wonder all hearts with joyous beat
Watch the changes thou dost bring,