[Written for the Sentinel]


When spring came creeping o'er the earth,The little plants awoke.They felt the love and sunshine,And heard the Voice that spoke.And then the birds came hurrying,Like heralds from above.The lark sang out in ecstasy,"Our God is Love."

Then stirred within the heart of meAn echo to that song.I felt the throb and pulse of love,That had been still so long.And with this throated, fairy sprite,Melodious from above,I joined my voice in joy, and sang,"Our God is Love."

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