'Tis Springtime


'Tis springtime, 'tis springtime, Cold winter is past;
Warm breezes are blowing and May's here at last;
The birds are returning, Their songs fill the air;
And meadows are smiling with blossoms so fair.

'Tis Springtime, 'tis springtime, all nature's reborn;
Shy flowers, fresh grasses the hillsides adorn;
The orchards and woodlands with colors are gay,
The glad earth rejoices through all the bright day.


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This page is maintained by Harold Wood, California.
E-mail: harold (at) planetpatriot.net


Last update: December 7, 1997