When spring comes

In all green things that grow

A new pulse of life beats warmly all aglow

Long are the golden days

So fragrant and moist

The gentle zephyrs blow

Why should the flowers alone make haste to go?

So swift to depart from us who love them so

When spring comes

In all green things that grow

A new pulse of life beats warmly all aglow

Long are the golden days

So fragrant and moist

The gentle zephyrs blow

Why should the flowers alone make haste to go?

So swift to depart from us who love them so