T he daffodils are nodding; There's a swaying of the trees; The playroom window rattles To the fragrant summer breeze. There is sunshine in the garden, And the bees are all a-hum. Oh, hark, the invitation: 'You must come, come, come!' The butterfly is glancing On his wings of golden hue; Ah! see where now he loiters O'er that bed of pansies blue; A moment since he hovered At this very window-pane, To see if we were coming To the garden and the lane. Hats! hats! for those who want them,; Boots! boots!—oh, lace them, do! Fling open doors and windows, To let the sunshine through! When birds and bees and blossoms Invite us out to play, Oh, who could well refuse them Upon so bright a day? John Lea. |