■ Spring ! Summer ! Autumn ! Of all three, 



Whose reign is loveliest there ? 

 Oh ! is not she who paints the ground, 

 When its frost fetters are unbound. 



The fairest of the fair ? 



I gaze upon her violet beds, 



Laburnums golden-tress'd, 

 Her flower-spiked almonds ; breathe perfume 

 From lilac and S3'ringa bloom. 



And cry, ' I love Spring best.' " 



Mrs South ey. 



