WHEN the catkin's on the willow
And the tassel on the birch,
The wild bees from the having rocks
Begin their honey search.

Brown wings among the browner grass
And breast all brightening yellow --
Pipes up from meadows as we pass
The lark's call, clear and mellow;
Now wakes the burnished dragonfly
Beside the glinting river,
That shakes with silent laughter where
The iris banners quiver;
Now on the budding poplar boughs
The tuneful blackbirds perch:
For the catkin's on the willow
And the tassel on the birch.

Now stalks the solemn crow behind
The farmer in the furrow;
The downy owl comes out at dusk
And hoots beside his burrow.
Now blows a balmy breath at morn
To call men to the sowing;
Now all the waterways are full,
And all the pastures growing;
Now truant anglers drop a line
To catfish and to perch:
For the catkin's on the willow
And the tassel on the birch.