Dear God, so many spring-times
I've seen break from winter's sleep . . .
that my faith is firm that bulblets
a sure rendezvous will keep.
With the great, warm sun, that's calling
to each frozen dormant thing . . .
"Wake up, and greet the spring-time
and hear the brave birds sing!"
God, help sad hearts, all frozen
in the winter of their pain . . .
Wake up to another spring-time
and greet the birds again.
Grant that sorrow's icy fetters
melt, and fall like rain - and then . . .
make their hearts bloom like lush gardens
sweet with lilies fair - Amen!