It means a glad up-springing of all things sweet and fair,
Soft meadows, daisy-sprinkles, and blossom-scented air,
It means the song of brooklets where ferns and grasses grow;
It means the budding tree-tops, 'round which soft zephyrs blow.
It means a sky as tender and blue as baby-eyes,
Where scarce a shadow passes, and scarce a sorrow lies;
It means the hastening homeward of winter-banished birds,
And the roving, welcome freedom of long-housed flocks and herds.
It means the soft unfolding of wild rose bud and bloom,
Of vines that yield their fragrance the mild breeze to perfume;
It means the wayside glory that meets our grateful eyes,
When on each hedge and pathway some newborn beauty lies.
It means a time of singing for joy that winter's o'er;
It means the welcome dawning of Summer's joys once more;
It means all things delicious, some new delight each day;
It is the earth's glad Easter, its Lenten passed away.
