Welcome, return of grateful Spring,
Of thee my muse shall sweetly sing,
And tune her joyful lays;
Welcome, fair Phoebus, welcome here,
To visit this our northern sphere,
With thy all-cheering rays.
All Nature feels the enlivening power,
Of thy bright beams each shining hour,
And smiles with joy around;
The hills and dales all vocal are,
Nothing but harmony is there,
So sweet is every sound.
Hark, from the trees the feathered choir,
High mounted up aloft in air,
Tuning their sweetest notes;
Ere I awake they catch the theme,
Ere Sol doth dart a radiant beam,
Soft music fills their throats.
Delightful season of the year,
Thy mornings calm, thy evenings clear,
And pleasant all the day.
Gently by turns descending showers,
Water the ground, then blooming flowers
Adorn the earth most gay.
Charming the prospect to behold,
Each fragrant bud its leaves unfold,
Its beauties all display;
Through all the season thus they bloom,
And shed around a sweet perfume,
Then fade and die away.
How good is all, how well designed,
To please the sense, to instruct the mind,
And make us wiser grow,
May we not learn from every flower,
To obey and praise the mighty Power,
That freely does bestow?
Awake, my soul, awake and sing,
With rapturous notes tune every string,
To sound the Author's praise;
All vocal beings join my song,
Man, beast, and bird, a numerous throng,
And shouts of triumph raise.
Sing the eternal Father's name,
Who spread abroad the ethereal frame,
And bade the planets roll;
Who taught the seasons how to change,
Who did the stars in order range,
And still preserves the whole.