ITALIAN SPRING

It is the Spring! And what could be So sweet a thing As early Spring In Italy?

To make the boon more wondrous rare You've caught the sunlight in your hair, And, happy slave, it dances there.

To steal the splendour from the skies, You draw their colour to your eyes, Like deep blue lakes of Paradise.

It is the Spring! And what could be So sweet a thing As early Spring In Italy, And you with me!