O the kiss of love and the soul of song
Is the south wind after frosts and snows!
Swallow and violet wait not long
When warm from the vales of heaven it blows;
And meadow and wood and ocean's breast
In a trance of blissful languor rest,
And the stars beam soft on the brooding year,
And God himself comes near, comes near,
When He quiets the earth by the south wind!