Pussy-Willow

Where the south sun shines
And starts the melt
And plays its warming rays
And bonny breezes billow,
Where tufts of grass are greening
And insects strive to stir
An early fly will stretch and lie
On a neat and natural pillow,
Where I am pleasantly reminded
Why’th so pleasing is the season
By the beauty of the budding
Of the pristine pussy-willow!

D.C. Butterfield