When fond Spring returns like a Grand Circus
Rolling-in to a gray desolate Town,
It\'s Monet fresh Colours gilding the eye,
The Out-Laws of Winter now all but flown,
And a clear Birds Egg of Blue fills the Sky
Where the Robin Heralds the coming feast,
By a soft Warming Breeze to thaw the Soul.
It just says : I carry on. As must we.