  In Spring-time, the Forest, In Summer, the Sea, In Autumn, the Mountains, In Winter,—ah me! How gay, the old branches A-swarm with new buds, The primrose and bluebell Fresh-blown in the woods, All green things unfolding, Where merry birds sing! I love in the Woodlands To wander in Spring. What joy, when the Sea-waves, In mirth and in might, Spread purple in shadow, Flash white into light! The gale fills the sail, And the gull flies away; In crimson and gold O pride! on the Mountains To leave earth below; The great slopes of heather, One broad purple glow; The loud-roaring torrent Leaps, bound after bound, To plains of gold Autumn, With mist creeping round Ah, Wind, is it Winter? Yes, Winter is here; With snow on the meadow, And ice on the mere. The daylight is short, But the firelight is long; Our skating's good sport; Then story and song. In Spring-time, the Forest, In Summer, the Sea, In Autumn, the Mountains,— And Winter has glee. flowers |
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