The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created spring.

The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created spring.

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.

The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent read more

The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its lovliness.

They know who keep a broken tryst,
Till something from the Spring be missed
We have not read more

They know who keep a broken tryst,
Till something from the Spring be missed
We have not truly known the Spring.

Now spring returns; but not to me returns
The vernal joy my better years have known;
Dim read more

Now spring returns; but not to me returns
The vernal joy my better years have known;
Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns,
And all the joys of life with health have flown.

It is only the farmer who faithfully plants seeds in the Spring, who reaps a harvest in the Autumn.

It is only the farmer who faithfully plants seeds in the Spring, who reaps a harvest in the Autumn.

Lo! where the rosy bosom'd Hours
Fair Venus' train appear,
Disclose the long-expecting flowers,
read more

Lo! where the rosy bosom'd Hours
Fair Venus' train appear,
Disclose the long-expecting flowers,
And wake the purple year.

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the read more

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds
is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the
tender grape, give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one,
and come away.

Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
read more

Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea.