When Summer’s heat does sting like lemon drops,
And I can hear the calming brush of Rain
Upon my clear and blissful windowpane,
Rain tells the fever ev'rywhere to stop.
But who, I wonder, tells the frosty Clouds,
That it is time for lemon drops again,
The Sun would like to dance some now and then,
A wintr’y Spring could never be allowed?
He is the jolly Spring himself, of course,
Who tells the chilling Ice, “The answer’s no”.
“Come quickly or I’ll have to use some force.”
He says, “It’s finally time for you to go.”
And so, the season Spring does now enforce,
Of course, is Winter and his bitter Snow.