The song of my feathered friend is sweet to hear,
‘Tis a symphony that falls on my grateful ear.
They’re symbols of hope, heralds of spring,
Melting the ice and snow that winter brings.
I stop, and look at the hillside by my drive,
And, Lo! The first crocus and tulips have arrived.
Now there’s still ice around, the temperature’s low,
But there’s a feeling of hope, when things start to grow.
Just a way of Our Lord’s saying, “Cheer up, my friend,
For rest time is over, the winter will end.”
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