Spring is Here

The Spring Is Here

by Louise Chandler Moulton

I MISS you, sweet! The spring is here; 

The young grass trembles on the leas; 

The violet's breath enchants the breeze; 

And the blue sky bends low and near. 

Home-coming birds, with carol clear, 

Make their new nests in budding trees— 

I miss you, sweet, now spring is here, 

And young grass trembles on the leas. 

You were my Spring, and spring is dear; 

Without you can the May-time please? 

Let lavish June withhold her fees, 

And winter reign throughout the year— 

I miss you, sweet, though spring is here.