Listen, children, listen, won't you come into the night?
The stars have set their candle gleam, the moon her lantern light.
I'm piping little tunes for you to catch your dancing feet.
There's glory in the heavens, but there's magic in the street.
There's jesting here and carnival: the cost of a balloon
Is an ancient rhyme said backwards, and a wish upon the moon.
The city walls and city streets! — you shall make of these
As fair a thing as country roads and blossomy apple trees.
What watchman calls us in the night, and plays a little tune
That turns our tongues to talking now of April, May and June?
Who bids us come with nimble feet and snapping finger tips?
I am the Spring, the Spring, the Spring with laughter on my lips.