I

The spring is passing through the land

In web of ghostly green arrayed,

And blood is warm in man and maid.

The arches of desire have spanned

The barren ways, the debt is paid,

The spring is passing through the land

In web of ghostly green arrayed.

Sweet scents along the winds are fanned

From shadowy wood and secret glade

Where beauty blossoms unafraid,

The spring is passing through the land

In web of ghostly green arrayed

And blood is warm in man and maid.