Spring Bursts Today, For Love Is Risen

What Is Pink? A Rose Is Pink By The Fountain's Brink.

The Violets Whisper From The Shade Which Their Own Leaves Have Made: Men Scent Our Fragrance On The Air, Yet Take No Heed Of Humble Lessons We Would Read.

Love Shall Be Our Token; Love Be Yours And Love Be Mine.

The Bourne Underneath The Growing Grass, Underneath The Living Flowers, Deeper Than The Sound Of Showers: There We Shall Not Count The Hours By The Shadows As They Pass. Youth And Health Will Be But Vain, Beauty Reckoned Of No Worth: There A Very Little Girth Can Hold Round What Once The Earth Seemed Too Narrow To Contain.

She Gave Up Beauty In Her Tender Youth, Gave All Her Hope And Joy And Pleasant Ways; She Covered Up Her Eyes Lest They Should Gaze On Vanity, And Chose The Bitter Truth.