A Spring Song
Old Mother Earth woke up from her sleep,
and found she was cold and bare;
the winter was over, the spring was near,
and she had not a dress to wear.
"Alas!" she sighed, with great dismay.
"oh, where shall I get my clothes?
There's not a place to buy a suit,
and a dressmaker no one knows."
"I'll make you a dress," said the spring grass,
just looking above the ground,
"a dress of green of the lovliest sheen,
to cover you all around."
"And we," said the dandelions gay,
"will dot it with yellow bright."
"I'll make it a fringe," said forget-me -not,
"of blue, very soft and light."
"We'll embroider the front," said the violets,
"with a lovely purple hue!"
"And we," said the roses, "will make you a crown
of red , jeweled over the dew."
"And we'll be your gems," said the voice from the shade,
where the ladies' eardrops live-
"orange is the color for any queen
and the best we have to give."
Old Mother Earth was thankful and glad,
as she put on her dress so gay;
and that is the reason, my little ones,
she is looking so lovely today.