Follow Thou Thy Choice.

Ah, Passing Few Are They Who Speak, Wild, Stormy Month! In Praise Of Thee; Yet Though Thy Winds Are Loud And Bleak, Thou Art A Welcome Month To Me. For Thou, To Northern Lands, Again The Glad And Glorious Sun Dost Bring, And Thou Hast Joined The Gentle Train And Wear'st The Gentle Name Of Spring.

The Country Ever Has A Lagging Spring, Waiting For May To Call Its Violets Forth, And June Its Roses-showers And Sunshine Bring, Slowly, The Deepening Verdure O'er The Earth; To Put Their Foliage Out, The Woods Are Slack, And One By One The Singing-birds Come Back. Within The City's Bounds The Time Of Flowers Comes Earlier. Let A Mild And Sunny Day, Such As Full Often, For A Few Bright Hours, Breathes Through The Sky Of March The Airs Of May, Shine On Our Roofs And Chase The Wintry Gloom- And Lo! Our Borders Glow With Sudden Bloom.

The February Sunshine Steeps Your Boughs And Tints The Buds And Swells The Leaves Within.

Beautiful Isles! Beneath The Sunset Skies Tall, Silver-shafted Palm-trees Rise, Between Full Orange-trees That Shade The Living Colonade.

All Things That Are On Earth Shall Wholly Pass Away, Except The Love Of God, Which Shall Live And Last For Aye.