Love-Call In Spring

Not only the lark but the robin too (Oh, heart o' my heart, come into the wood!) Is singing the air to gladness new As the breaking bud And the freshet's flood!

Not only the peeping grass and the scent-- (Oh, love o' my life, fly unto me here!) Of violets coming ere April's spent-- But the frog's shrill cheer And the crow's wild jeer!

Not only the blue, not only the breeze, (Oh, soul o' my heart, why tarry so long!) But sun that is sweeter upon the trees Than rills that throng To the brooklet's song!

Oh, heart o' my heart, oh, heart o' my love, (Oh soul o' my soul, haste unto me, haste!) For spring is below and God is above-- But all is a waste Without thee--Haste!

III.