THE spring in its beauty 

The spring-time, has come; 

The gay blossoms flutter 

About my home; 

The robin is warbling 

His blithe roundelay, 

And singing the praises 

Of May, sweet May. 

The bees are beginning 

The honey to sip, 

And the butterflies, flitting, 

In sunshine dip; 

Whirling and dancing 

From spray to spray, 

They join in the praises 

Of May, sweet May. 

I hear the soft music 

In all the wood, 

Where streamlets are leaping 

In merriest mood— 

Where wild birds are coming, 

And squirrels play, 

And nature rejoices 

In May, sweet May. 

And shall I not hail thee, 

Beautiful Spring! 

For joy to my spirit 

Thy bright days bring. 

To God, the Creator, 

My homage I pay, 

And thank him who gives us 

The May, sweet May. 

—Helen E Brown.