From the Newark Evening Star, March 21, 1914. By Ella Higginson.
Oh, every year hath its winter,
And every year hath its rain;
But a day is always coming
When the birds go north again.
When new leaves swell in the forest
And grass springs green on the plain,
And the alder’s veins turn crimson
And the birds go north again.
Oh, every heart hath its sorrow,
And every heart hath its pain;
But a day is always coming
When the birds go north again.
’Tis the sweetest thing to remember
If courage be on the wane,
When the cold, dark days are over—
Why, the birds go north again.