O little buds all bourgeoning with Spring,
You hold my winter in forgetfulness;
Without my window lilac branches swing,
Within my gate I hear a robin sing—
O little laughing blooms that lift and bless!
So blow the breezes in a soft caress,
Blowing my dreams upon a swallow’s wing;
O little merry buds in dappled dress,
You fill my heart with very wantonness—
O little buds all bourgeoning with Spring!
Thomas S. Jones, Jr., 1882-1932