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Welcome, all hail to thee! Welcome, young Spring! Thy sun-ray is bright On the butterfly's wing. Beauty shines forth In the blossom-robed trees; Perfume floats by On the soft southern breeze.
Music, sweet music, Sounds over the earth; One glad choral song Greets the primrose's birth; The lark soars above, With its shrill matin strain; The shepherd boy tunes His reed pipe on the plain.
Music, sweet music, Cheers meadow and lea;— In the song of the blackbird, The hum of the bee; The loud happy laughter Of children at play Proclaim how they worship Spring's beautiful day.
The eye of the hale one, With joy in its gleam, Looks up in the noontide, And steals from the beam; But the cheek of the pale one Is mark'd with despair, To feel itself fading, When all is so fair.
The hedges, luxuriant With flowers and balm, Are purple with violets, And shaded with palm; The zephyr-kiss'd grass Is beginning to wave; Fresh verdure is decking The garden and grave.
Welcome! all hail to thee, Heart-stirring May! Thou hast won from my wild harp A rapturous lay. And the last dying murmur That sleeps on the string Is welcome! All hail to thee, Welcome, young Spring!
