At break of day, awakening,
I hear once more the swallows sing
Their voices murmur in my ear,
Glad tidings of that time of year
When bright skies chase the streaks of gray,
And chill winds fade, then blow away
The barren ground, once cold and mean,
Gives way to ground of budding green
The valley streams arise and flow,
The farmer takes to plow and hoe
The sum of ev'rything and all,
Once hushed in reds and golds of Fall
Becomes the all and ev'rything,
When Mother Earth gives birth to Spring
