In Carolina It Is Spring

A violet, tiny, frail and sweet, Held up her dainty head to meet The Southwind’s kiss upon her brow; He whispered, ‘‘Winter’s over now.’’ She trembled at his bold caress, And loved him not one bit the less Because he tarried but a day, Then sought new fields in which to play.

Her beauty caught my roving eye As I went idly strolling by ; I watched her proudly bend and preen, In purple robe and mantle green; I said, ‘‘My lady, you shall go, A-journeying to the land of snow; Tell them the message that you bring Is—In Carolina it is spring.’’