Spring comes laughing o'er the hill tops!
Spring! with her wild hair free!
Spring! with her feet all pink and bare, 
Flaunting a robe of colour rare.
Ah! who shall deny that day is fair 
When Spring comes laughing o'er the hills!

Spring comes bounding thro the meadows, 
Spring! with her eyes alight!
Orchards, ajoy to see her again,
Pelt her with torrents of blossomed rain, 
And young earth shouts in merry vein, 
For Spring comes laughing o'er the hills!

Spring comes teasing youth and maiden,
Spring! with her wooing song!
Whispers to lovers, brave and fair, 
Love is a-wing in the quickened air.
Ah! who may deny that Love is there 
When Spring comes laughing o'er the hills!