The Trilliums

"Wake, robin! Wake, robin!" the trilliums call,

Though never a word they say;

"Wake, robin! Wake, robin!" while bud-sheaths fall,

And violets greet the day.

The soft winds bring the spring again,

The days of snow are done;

The stir of life's in every vein,

And warmly shines the sun.

The trillium stars are white as milk,

They beckon as they swing;

The trillium's leaves are soft as silk,

They make the robins sing.

Soon all the hill and all the dale

Shall once again be gay;

When trilliums from the tree-set vale

Open their cups to-day.

"Wake, robin! Wake, robin!" the trilliums cry,

Though never a sound they make;

"Wake, robin! Wake, robin!" till wings whir by,

And robins sing for their sake.