MARCH.




 O MARCH wind, blow your best! 

  Set all your trumpets calling,

Send rain, and hail, and mist, and snow 

Across the landscape falling.

A little while, a little while,

And down the meadow, May will smile.


O sullen sky, stoop down,

Bend low, the hills dividing. 

Who cares if dark clouds come and go?

The sun is only hiding! 

And by-and-by, ah, by-and-by, 

Both storm and shadow far will fly.