Beautiful Spring

A poem celebrating spring's renewal, love, memories, and God’s everlasting presence.

Ah, gentle spring, thy balmy breeze, New chanting mid the budding trees

Short Poems & Quotes  |   Poems About The Seasons  |   Spring Poems  |   Beautiful Spring

Updated February 8, 2025, by Catherine Pulsifer


Spring is a season that awakens the soul. With every blooming flower and gentle breeze, it brings a sense of renewal and hope. In Beautiful Spring, Daniel S. Warner beautifully captures the essence of this season—not just as a time of nature’s rebirth, but as a reminder of life’s deeper joys, reflections, and faith. Through the changing scenery of spring, Warner reminds us to embrace love, cherish memories, and find comfort in God’s constant presence, knowing that true peace blossoms when we trust in Him.


Beautiful Spring

Poet: Daniel S. Warner

Ah, gentle spring, thy balmy breeze,
New chanting mid the budding trees,
A glorious resurrection sings!
And on thy soft, ethereal wings
Sweet nectar from ten thousand flowers,
That bloom in nature's happy bowers,
Thou dost as holy incense bring
To Him who sheds the beams of spring.

Far in the South thy bloom appeared,
And all our journey homeward cheered;
A thousand miles in sweet embrace,
We northward held an even race;
Or if by starts we did outrun
Thy even tenor from the sun,
Erelong we blessed thy coming tread
And quaffed the odors thou didst spread.

O brightest, sweetest of the year!
When all is vocal with thy cheer,
Thy lily cups and roses red
With us some tear-drops also shed.
The cherry-trees, in shrouds of white,
Bring back to mind a mournful sight -
A coffined brother 'neath the bloom,
Just ere they bore him to the tomb.

Ah, yes, thou sweet, beguiling spring,
Of thee my inmost heart would sing.
"The time of love," all bards agree
To sing- in merry notes to thee.
Yea, such thou art, and happy they
"Who walk in love's delightful day,
Along the path thy flakes have strewn,
And know indeed her constant boon.

But what of him who walks alone,
With past love fled and turned to stone?
Shall not the springtide music's roll
Mock withered joys and sting the soul?
Not in the heart embalmed in love
Transported from the worlds above,
Nor seasons, no, nor else can bring
Heart-aches where only God is King;

That soul an endless spring enjoys
Where life the will of God employs.
He mid the fields of bliss may tread,
And feast on joys that long have fled,
By sacred memories' glowing trace
More than the heart untouched by grace,
Can drink from full fruition's stream,
Or paint in fancy's wildest dream.

O God! thou, art the life of spring,
The Source of all the seasons bring,
The soul of all the joys we know,
The Fountain whence our pleasures flow.
While nature wakes from winter's sleep,
And gentle clouds effusive weep,
We join creation's grateful lays,
And celebrate our Maker's praise.



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O God! thou, art the life of spring, The Source of all the seasons bring

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