Contentment by Mary N. Prescott

When the roses bloom sweet and red,
And the daisy has lifted her shining head;
When birds are still in the brooding nest,—
Of all the seasons summer is best.

When the golden-rod’s torches shine,—
And the purple grapes drop ripe from the vine;
When the reddening maples light up the way,
There is nothing so good as an autumn day.

When the hills are white with snow,
And only the frostflowers dare to blow;
When sleigh-bells chime from far and near,—
Winter’s the best time of all the year.

When the wild brooks begin to leap,
And out of the earth the mosses creep;
When swallows twitter, and robins call,—
Spring is the very best time of all.