The sky is blue and sunny, 
Busy the wild bee thrums, 
Now manna-dew and honey 
Spill o'er from old red gums. 

The bush gleams fresh and dewy 
To lure her stragglers back ; 
A greybeard, humping bluey, 
Goes whistling down the track. 

From school brown children flocking' 
Rob many a woolly nest ; 
And the mother croons, a-rocking 
Her baby at the breast. 

To earth grown old and crabby 
With lilt of youth comes Spring, 
With bloom and bud and baby, 
Each tender wistful thing. 

She smoothes out Winter's wrinkles ; 
And from her charmed horn 
With fiery dew she sprinkles 
The Resurrection Morn.