I

The spring is passing through the land In web of ghostly green arrayed, And blood is warm in man and maid.

The arches of desire have spanned The barren ways, the debt is paid, The spring is passing through the land In web of ghostly green arrayed.

Sweet scents along the winds are fanned From shadowy wood and secret glade Where beauty blossoms unafraid, The spring is passing through the land In web of ghostly green arrayed And blood is warm in man and maid.