March nodded to Winter, “Goodbye! Goodbye!
Off to your home in the North you must hide.
Oh, have you forgotten, under the snow
The wee seeds are waiting — yes, waiting to grow?
“They are Spring’s little babies, and soon she’ll be here,
Whispering her welcome to each baby dear;
So I’ll tidy the earth; I’ll sweep and I’ll blow,
Getting it cleared for the flowers to grow!”