Spring sprung

They say the green, green grass that grows

Is part of that which heaven knows

The dabbled dew that dribbles down

Jewels upon that Godly crown

The heads that shade in gusty winds

Spreads sees to grow and honor Him

The leaves that luster with the dawn
bend reverently and revere His song

He sings, my dear, of little things

Of grass’ green fluttering wings

He sings from seeds to sprouting stakes

He even sings of what seem mistakes

And His song is one so very old

That sings life out from the depths of cold