I long for the wild woods and fields in the spring,

For the hills and the streamlets once more.

I long for a sight of all nature, to-day,

When the drear, frozen winter is o’er,

And Spring comes apace, and all nature in life

Is now quickened to action more free,

And the flowers are springing in valley and dell,

And green grows the shrub and the tree.

I long for a sight of the squirrels so gay,

As they spring up the trees on the hill,

I long for a sight of the waters that flow

And that sing as they turn the old mill.

I long for the songs of the birds in the grove,

As they sing, at the sweet early dawn,

And to feel the great heart-throbs of nature in glee—

It is Spring now, and Winter is gone.

—Frank Monroe Beverly.