THE SEASONS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 52, 27 December 1890, Page 8

THE SEASONS.

The spring has many a joyous time, With blossoms sweet and song of birds, And merry the farmers sowing seed In distant field his song is heard. 'Tis then sweet violets lift their heads

Ami with white daisies closely pressed—’Tis when we view this lovely scene We say, ‘ I love the springtime best.’

And summer, too, with ripening grain, And honey bees to buzz and sip The nectar from each Bower and tree,

Which soon brings sweetness to each lip. And fragrant new-mown hay lies strewn In fields where we sit down to rest, Then we in gladness quickly say, ‘ I think the summer-time the best. ’

The autumn with its golden tints Of varied hues of russet brown, On tree and bush—while breezes blow And shake the fruit full ripened down. We hear the farmer's cheery tones While gathering in his store so blest, We join with him in ‘ Harvest Home ’ And say, ‘ The autumn time is best.'

And then old winter comes along. With snowy veils and crystals clear. And Christmas chimes from dear old bells We listened to in childhood's years. And ’round the ingleside once more The absent ones again are pressed, With kiss of welcome, while we say, ‘ Ah, yes, the winter time is best.’