Spring - Mild


HOW beautiful the spring doth seem!

The air is soft and mild, 

The grass comes creeping up the hills,

And o'er the woodland wild. 

The trees put forth their pretty buds,

The daffodil appears, 

The crocus raiseth up her head

Amid the April tears.

The blue-bell with its soft green leaves

Looks out upon the sky; 

The violet in her shady nook

Opens her soft blue eye; 

The birds are busy with their nests,

And happy sing away; 

The little lambs seem very glad,

They skip about and play.

And happy children run and shout,

And say that summer's come; 

And very hard it is to keep

The little ones at home. 

Oh, let us bless the glorious God,

Who maketh all things fair, 

Who sends us sunshine bright, and flowers,

And this soft, fragrant air;

Who formed us in his tender love,

That we might happy be; 

Who watcheth o'er us night and day,

And guards us carefully. 

Bless God for all his perfect gifts,

And trust him for his love, 

Prepare on earth to do his will,

That you may dwell above.





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