  Away from the Winter and all his wild ways, To the blossoms that smile in the spring's laughing days,— To the rivers that sing In the gladness of spring, Where the birds cleave the air on the love-laden wing! Away from the walks of the snow-smitten town To the fields where the bees for the honeys go down, To the vales and the hills, And the love-singing rills, And the song of disconsolate, grieved whippoor-wills! Away to the paths where the white lilies grow And the daisies besprinkle the meadows below; Where the roses blush new In the arms of the dew, And the stars toss the sweets of their kisses at you! |
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