Softly the west wind blows

Softly the west wind blows;

Gaily the warm sun goes;

The earth her bosom sheweth,

And with all sweetness floweth.

Goes forth the scarlet spring,

Clad with all blossoming,

Sprinkles the fields with flowers,

Leaves on the forest

Dens for four-footed things,

Sweet nests for all with wings.

On every blossomed bough

Joy ringeth now.

I see it with my eyes,

I hear it with my ears,

But in my heart are sighs,

And I am full of tears.

Alone with thought I sit,

And blench, remembering it;

Sometimes I lift my head,

I neither hear nor see.

Do thou, O Spring most fair,

Squander thy care,

On flower and leaf and grain,

And leave me alone with pain!