Here I come! Here I come! And the grasses peep;
The little white daisies, too, wake from their sleep.
The soft pussy-willows, in velvet and fur,
By the brookside are nodding and making a stir;
And the meadow-lark singing a songful of cheer,
For his happiest time is the Spring of the year.
He sings of the beautiful things we shall see,
Of bees and of buds and of blossoms to be;
Of nests in the meadows, of fruits by-and-by,
And long sunny days that so surely are nigh.
The crocus her sweetness begins to unfold;
The daffodil raises her banner of gold;
And the clovers are hasting to join the glad throng,
And keep to the tune of my pit-a-pat song.
A little boy was asked what M. D. meant, as he saw it on a street-sign the other day. He was told that it stood for Much Danger.
