In all the years which have been,
The spring hath green'd the bough -
The gladsome hopeful spring-time! -
Keep heart! It comes even now.

The winter-time departeth;
The early flowers expand;
The blackbird and the turtle-dove
Are heard throughout the land.

The sadness of the winter,
Which gloom'd our hearts, is gone:
A thousand signs betoken
That spring-time comes anon.

'Tis spring-time in our bosoms;
All strife aside we cast;
The storms were for the winter-days,
But they are gone and past.

Before us lies the spring-time-
Thank God, the time of mirth -
When birds are singing in the trees,
And flowers gem all the earth;

When a thousand busy hands upturn
The bounteous, fruitful mould,
And the heart of every poet feels
More love than it can hold.

In all the years which have been,
The spring-time green'd the bough-
The gentle, gracious spring-time!
Rejoice! it comes even now.