Late in March, when the days are growing longer And sight of early green Tells of the coming spring and suns grow stronger, Round the pale willow-catkins there are seen The year's first honey-bees...
In her lone cottage on the downs, With winds and blizzards and great crowns Of shining cloud, with wheeling plover And short grass sweet with the small white clover,...
When evening came and the warm glow grew deeper And every tree that bordered the green meadows And in the yellow cornfields every reaper And every corn-shock stood above their shadows...