The Summons of Spring

If all the earth seems sound asleep,

She's only sweetly feigning,

For in her bosom lying deep,

Unrest is surging, claiming

Her awakening; Spring is calling,

Calling her from meadows wide,

Tender mists o'er rivers falling,-

A call comes from my heart beside.

Through the trees the sap is stirring,

Pussy willows are silken dressed,

Birds are waking, wings are whirring,

Meadow-larks and all the rest;

A light there is that's just in Spring,

It colors far off hill and tree,-

0, the magic the Spring will bring!

It calls and calls to the heart of me!

Now the woods are all a-tremble,

And the flowers in riot bloom,

Earth no longer can dissemble,

Soon forgotten winter's gloom;

Love, Ah love, delight in living.

Pulses through this heart of mine,-

Spring has called! With no misgiving

I will lay my hand in thine.