They're coming! 'Neath the forest's mold, In mossy beds of ferny soil, Slowly their tiny robes unfold, Yet do they neither spin nor toil. They're coming! With their influence pure, Their emblematic power again Of him who would our steps allure To realms of love, devoid of pain. They're coming! With the summer's breeze, With azure skies and sunny showers, With notes of birds and hum of bees-- Who will not welcome back the flowers?