  THIS year’s breezes gently toss A fern uncurling from the moss; Arbutus trailing lengths along; Brown thrush thrilling with his song. The grosbeak sings a song of cheer, “Ain’t” things beautiful this year? The dandelions are here again Amongst the grass like golden rain. A hawthorn raining petals white, Whilst dripping with the dews of night. A mocker’s notes, round, sweet and clear. “Ain’t” things beautiful this year? So thankful that old winter’s gone Fond hearts beat a tender song. The meadow lark in circles high, Sings songs of faith against the sky. While in my heart I greatly fear, Things are too beautiful this year. |
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