Bud and Bloom.
ABEL C. THOMAS.
J. P. WEBSTER.
1. Though the winter be cheerless and cold,
And the wild winds are bowing the trees,
In promise the spring we behold,
And rejoice with the birds and the bees.
Bud and bloom, sweet perfume, bud and bloom, sweet perfume,
And the fruit in its time
Nature yields, sweet perfume,
Bud and bloom, sweet perfume, bud and bloom sweet perfume,
We will hark to the call of the fields.
2. In the axe and the conquering plow,
The harrowing, mellowing spade,
We the symbols of labor avow,
The tools of our industry made.
3. From the hour that we scatter the seed
To the day when the harvest we glean,
Only peace for the Father we need,
To make us devoutly serene.
Used by arrangement with Oliver Ditson Company, owners of the Copyright.