The little brown seeds in their wintry bed, 
Are stirring to Springtime's call, 
The buts on the maples are flaming red, 
And Nature is thrilling all.
 
A red winged blackbird sings to his mate, 
In the woods beyond the hill. 
Beneath thy window the bluebirds wait, 
Their song of happiness trill; 

      Ah! wake! dear heart, come out with me, 
      Come out in the glad, glad sunshine 
      The birds are calling, calling thee, 
      And the joy of Springtime is thine.

The meadows are green with velvet sod, 
Gay birds sing in ev' ry tree, 
Sweet goldhearted daisies gaily nod, 
The violet waits for thee. 

The whole world is budding, blooming fair, 
And skies are Heaven's own blue, 
There's song in the blossom, song in the air, 
God smiles in the drop of dew; 

      Ah! wake! dear heart, come out with me, 
      Come out in the glad, glad sunshine, 
      The birds are calling, calling thee, 
      And the rapture of Spring is thine,