Each Spring, this earth so old,
Bedecks herself in colors gay
That 'harmonize in every way
And fill us with wonder and surprise
That a Dame so old could be so wise.

When first she awakens from slumber
And throws her snow blanket away,
I confess she is scantly clad
In colors quite somber and gray,
But soon she begins to array
Herself in a robe of beautiful green
As she whirls 'neath skies of blue,
And the sweetest flowers that e'er were seen
Or bloomed in the garden of a fairy queen,
She wears on her bosom too.

She is constantly changing before our eyes,
And we marvel more and more.
As Spring into Summer flies;
Then Summer, followed by Autumnal skies
At the beauty she has in store