Joel S. Goldsmith

        Authentic Writings




I am coming, little maiden,

With the pleasant sunshine laden,

With the honey for the bee,

With the blossom for the tree,

With the flower, and with the leaf,

Till I come, the time is brief.


I am coming, I am coming,

Hark!  The little bees are humming.

See, the lark is soaring high,

In the bright and sunny sky,

And the gnats are on the wing,

Little maiden, now, tis Spring!


See, the yellow catkins cover

All the slender willows over,

And on the banks of mossy green,

Star-like primroses are seen.

Every little stream is bright,

All orchard trees are white.


Hark!  The little lambs are bleating

And the cawing rooks are meeting.

In the elms, a noisy crowd,

All the world is singing loud.

And the first white butterfly

In the sun goes flitting by.


Turn thine eyes from Earth to Heaven,

God for thee the Spring has given.

Taught the birds their melodies,

Clothed the earth and cleared the skies,

For thy pleasures or thy food,

Pour thy Soul in Gratitude.