As spring the win­ter doth suc­ceed
The nak­ed trees with leaves are dressed,
The black­ened earth is clothed in green,
And all with bright­en­ing joy is blessed.

My sun re­turns with heal­ing wings,
My soul and bo­dy do re­joice;
My heart ex­alts and prais­es sings
To Him that heard my wail­ing voice.

My win­ter’s past, my storms are gone,
And for­mer clouds seem now all fled;
But if they must eclipse again
I’ll run where I was suc­cor­èd.

I have a shel­ter from the storm,
A sha­dow from the faint­ing heat,
For I have ac­cess to His throne;
Who is a God so won­drous great?

O hast Thou made my pil­grim­age
Thus plea­sant, fair, so sweet and good;
Blessed me in youth and el­der age
My Ba­ca made a spring­ing flood.

Studying, I ask, what I shall do
To show my du­ty with de­light?
All I can give is but mine own
And at the most a sim­ple mite.