Soft shadows flit across the wintry sky, 

 And dawn is breaking thro' the mists of night, 

 As Spring returns, robed ia immortal light, 



To bid the darkness and the tempest fly. 



Sweet, o'er the meadows and the valleys, lie 

 A thousand smiles, to charm our longing sight, 

 As Hawthorn buds appear in virgin white, 



And fields are clad in Primrose panoply. 



Oh, woodlands fair ! oh, valleys decked with gold ! 



We fain would linger 'mong the blooming flowers. 

 Where myriad songsters on the branches sing, 



And all their music, with its joy untold, 

 Now thriUs impassioned thro' the vernal bowers, 



To welcome thee, oh, fair eternal Spring ! 



— Minnie M'Kean. 



