Hast thou some star in yonder heights
To guide thee on thy way,
And warn thee of the changing years
And seasons, day by day?

Fair visitant, the time of flowers,
We welcome now with thee,
When all the birds' unnumbered choir
Warbles from every tree.

The schoolboy on his truant quest
For flowers, wandering by,
Leaps as he hears thy welcome note
And echoes back thy cry.

To visit other lands afar
Thou soon wilt flying be;
Thou hast another spring than ours
To cheerly welcome thee.

For thee the hedgerows aye are green,
Thy skies are always clear,
There is no sorrow in thy song,
Nor winter in thy year!




GWILYM MARLES.