Fare thee well, O Fair Maiden of Rebirth,
O Mother Season, O Spring of the Earth.
Lay Thy viridescent head upon the new-sprung knolls
Spread Thy browning locks across Man’s many holds
Rest Ye there till Winter too falls
And the throaty tune of the Robin does call.

Oh why, in Thy great beauty, must Ye fade,
Vanish into the cold heat of Summer’s gaze.
I know it to be fair, Thy lust for Time’s flow
To always doggedly in His footsteps follow
Such is the fate of Maiden Spring
That love should to an end to Her bring

But still each year I morn Thy passing
For the birds upon Thy lashes long no longer sing
The daffodils shrivel like the beauty of youth
Brown turns the earth that The once made anew
Return Ye swiftly, O star-crossed Maiden Spring
And slow Thy passing and thereby death’s sting.