By Henry Beer
Some people think the springtime
A seasonable event,
With birds, and bees, and flowers,
Which nature's hand has sent.
To me spring is the season
When Heaven does bestow
On earth it's tenderest blessings,
And causes things to grow.
The Lilacs show their color,
The Cherry flowers are white,
The Apple trees are blooming
With petals sweet and bright.
In marshy vales and meadows,
How lovely to behold
The Buttercups like sunshine,
Arrayed in shining gold.
And there out in the woodland,
What precious gems we see!
The Adder's Tongue, and Trillium,
And Rue Anemone.
There stands Jack in the Pulpit,
Without a word to say,
And everywhere Spring Beauties
Are growing by the way.
The air is filled with fragrance,
The blooming flowers and trees
Dispense their pleasing odors,
And sweetness for the bees.
The Cardinal and Robin,
The Oriole so bright,
Are singing in the orchard,
A song of sheer delight.
The Meadow Lark in rapture
Goes soaring in the air,
And Swallows in the barn-loft
Their nests of mud prepare.
If things which are created
Are truly fair to see,
How beautiful and perfect
Must the Creator be!
I hope to live in Eden,
It's joys sublime to share;
For it excels in beauty-
It's always spring-time there.
2 comments:
Such a beautiful poem and bouquet of flowers! The poem reminds me of the old time song, "Springtime in Glory" by the Chuck Wagon Gang. :)
Thank you for the comment, Amy! I'm not sure that I have heard that song. I'll have to go look it up now. :)
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