Waking the Flowers

Hark, how the blackbird whistles!
     Hark, how the song-sparrow trills!
What are they calling, with snow-flakes falling, 
     And April cold on the hills?

And what is the chick-a-dee saying?
     And what do the bluebirds mean?
You'd think by their playing, they all were come Maying,
     When hardly a border is green.

Ho, ho! they are as wise as merry;
     They know what the sun is about;
And all without worry, they twitter and hurry,
     Inviting the flowers to come out.

"Come, come, come! " says the robin,
     "Wake up, wake up, you blooms
That low in the ground lie, sleeping so soundly, 
     Shut in your little dark rooms."

"Quicker than winking and thinking,
     Up, up!" the blackbirds say,
"Tulip and lily, and sweet daffodilly,
     Awake for the coming of May."

"Up with the sunrise, myrtles,
     Open your eyes of blue!
Fleur-de-lis, violet, quick to your toilet!"
     The bluebird is calling to you.

Chick-a-dee talks to the wind-flower, —
     "Ho, brave little fellow, awake!
The north wind, blowing, may bite you in going;
     But the sun has a kiss for your sake."

Song-sparrow twitters in singing, —
     "Peep from your leaf-hidden nest, 
Sweetly salute us, darling arbutus,
     Baby on April's breast!"

So all the singing prophets
     On the leafless April limbs,
Wake every flower in meadow and bower, 
     With their merry morning hymns.