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16 Lyrics and Legends.
And all this changing tint,
This whispering stir and hint
Of bud and bloom and wing,
Is the coming of the spring.
And to-morrow or to-day
The brooks will break away
From their icy, frozen sleep,
And run and laugh and leap.
And the next thing, in the woods,
The catkins in their hoods
Of fur and silk will stand,
A sturdy little band.
And the tassels soft and fine
Of the hazel will untwine,
And the elder branches show
Their buds against the snow.
