If all the earth seems sound asleep,
She's only sweetly feigning,
For in her bosom lying deep,
Unrest is surging, claiming
Her awakening; Spring is calling,
Calling her from meadows wide,
Tender mists o'er rivers falling,-
A call comes from my heart beside.

Through the trees the sap is stirring,
Pussy willows are silken dressed,
Birds are waking, wings are whirring,
Meadow-larks and all the rest;
A light there is that's just in Spring,
It colors far off hill and tree,-
0, the magic the Spring will bring!
It calls and calls to the heart of me!

Now the woods are all a-tremble,
And the flowers in riot bloom,
Earth no longer can dissemble,
Soon forgotten winter's gloom;
Love, Ah love, delight in living.
Pulses through this heart of mine,-
Spring has called! With no misgiving
I will lay my hand in thine.