met the herald jonquils Amid the grass to-doy They trooped, the little trump-tors.
In glad and green array Each held a golden bugle, And each a spear of green, They said that they were messen. gers From April's misty queen.
Spring gove a swift direction, A hidden countersign Mayhap it was the blue bird's They straightened up in line; There came a rushing whisper, A. mystic sudden breeze Tt tossed their little horns on high, Their trumpets to the trees.
They blew a golden message, Avshout of love and spring, K Nip-toe bloat of just one word—'A. word for stars to. sing; 'They tossed their living trumpets 'The' word they blew and blew: And the word, O Lord of, Li the word Was You!
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.