Dear is the advent of the spring,

With sunny smiles aglow;

When Nature leaves her languishing,

And all things beauteous grow.

Dear is the face of early rose

Where'er it first appears;

How fair its purple mantle shows,

Softened with dewy tears!

Dear is the plant that yields its spoil

The first of all the rest;

It pays for all the anxious toil,

And care itself is blest.

Dear is the innocent delight

Of lamb in gleesome play;

And sweet to hear the birds unite

In song at break of day.

But only some frail shadowing

Is all on earth we see;

Dearer than every joy of spring

Is early piety.

Oh! scene most fair--some glad young heart

Walking with Christ in light;

Thus earth and heaven take a part

In witnessing the sight.

The zeal that works with quiet rule,

Bright looks, affections warm,

Make him in God's work beautiful,

As morning's pleasant charm.

True piety in early days

Its joy through life supplies;

It brings its heir through all rough ways

To live in Paradise.