Spring goeth all in white,
Crowned with milk-white may;
in fleecy flocks of light,
o'er heaven the white clouds stray;
white butterflies in the air;
white daisies prank the ground;
the cherry and hoary pear,
scatter their snow around.
When springtime comes upon us,
Filling freshness in the air.
Showing natures own beauty,
With flowers blooming everywhere.
Trees start slowly budding.
Opening to the sun's warm rays.
Start the birds to singing.
Touching our hearts in these ways.
The grass starts turning greener.
Pushing up out of the ground.
Nature is waking up.
Sending forth her beautiful sound.
Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness?to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.