Spring Love
The trees, the trees are blossoming!
The birds, the sweet birds sing!
The grass tilts up in glory now,
And crowns my feet its king.
King one and two walk through and through,
Taking softness, quaffing dew;
King one and two are wet!
The birds above sing, "Love, love, love!"
(The queen is coming yet).
Four feet, four hands, four lips so blithe,
Leap gleaming ripe, pronouncing, "Life!"
Down we throne by these sunny hills,
Bound and wound in our happy wills
(The queen is coming yet).
Earth about us springs and sings,
"I'm alive for queens and kings.
For loving man a palace, I,
From moisty roots to misty sky
(The queen is coming yet).
"Kings and queens of love's desire,
Light your engines, start your fire!"
The trees, the trees are blossoming!
The birds, the sweet birds sing!
|