Old Winter's past,
With storm and blast,
Let's be no longer sad!
For Spring has come,
With all its bloom,
And earth again is glad!

The smiling field
Its harvests yield,
The brooks with waters flow;
Then let's rejoice
With cheerful voice,
And on to duty go!

The joyful bird
Can now be heard
With melody to sing!
All nature, too,
Unites to view
The pleasant days of Spring.

Industriously
The stirring bee
Prepares to take his round
Among the bow'rs
And smiling flow'rs,
Where'er they may be found.

The sweetest green
Can now be seen,—
The worm begins to creep;
Then why should we
Act sluggishly,
Or waste our time in sleep?

No time to rest—
Life's short at best—
Let's work while yet we may;
With cheerful heart
We'll do our part,
Ere we be called away.