And all the winds go sighing, for sweet things dying.

And all the winds go sighing, for sweet things dying.

We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.

Spring bursts to-day, For Christ is risen and all the earth's at play.

One by one the flowers close, Lily and dewy rose Shutting their tender petals from the moon.

A sister is one who reaches for your hand and touches your heart.