Tip AIR herald of the coming spring 



Who fear est not the winter s snow. 

 The friendly fields begin to show, 



haste thy gaily painted wing; 



1 long to hear thee carolling 

 Upon the treetop, sweet and low. 

 For when I hear thy song, I know 

 That soon the robin, too, will sing. 

 And all the merry woods will ring 

 With Springtim£^s well remembered song. 

 That flowers will wake from slumber long 

 And lift their fragrant offering — 



Didst know what joy thy song would bring, 

 Dear little harbinger of Spring ? 



