Woodland Spring

‘Neath the golden rays of sun

Where rippling brook its way does run

Through the trees that now awake

With the springtime light of day,

There, fairies oft’ abound.


With the greening of the trees,

The opening buds, unfurling leaves,

The squirrels and rabbits scurry through

The cool and damp of morning dew

That pixies there arrange.


Amid the smallest creatures fair,

The fairies toil, and slowly, where

The cold of winter late had been,

The glorious springtime now begins

Upon the forest floor.

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