The spit an’ shine o’ spring is sprung—
In my imagination,
An’ sin’ a song I sing is sung
I rise in elevation!

Tho’ winter, bold, still wins wi’ cold
I’ve wings tha’ can out-fly ‘im;
My thought ha’ taught me I’m not old
An’ youth in me will try ‘im!

The hail, O Spring, who is not here,
And hail, sweet blossoms blowin’!
The veils of Winter disappear
Though men do wail “Still snowin’!”