A man has every season while a woman only has the right to spring.

A man has every season while a woman only has the right to spring.

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
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I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.

If there comes a little thaw,
Still the air is chill and raw,
Here and there a read more

If there comes a little thaw,
Still the air is chill and raw,
Here and there a patch of snow,
Dirtier than the ground below,
Dribbles down a marshy flood;
Ankle-deep you stick in mud
In the meadows while you sing,
"This is Spring."

A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.

A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.

in Just--
spring when the world is mud--
luscious the little
lame balloonman
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in Just--
spring when the world is mud--
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee

Lo! where the rosy bosom'd Hours
Fair Venus' train appear,
Disclose the long-expecting flowers,
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Lo! where the rosy bosom'd Hours
Fair Venus' train appear,
Disclose the long-expecting flowers,
And wake the purple year.

The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
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The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
A flower-garden smiling.

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the read more

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds
is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the
tender grape, give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one,
and come away.

Spring makes its own statement, so loud and clear that the gardener seems to be only one of the instruments, read more

Spring makes its own statement, so loud and clear that the gardener seems to be only one of the instruments, not the composer.