The Merry Bowling-green

The gloomy days are gone
With the blasts o' winter keen;
The flowers are blooming fair,
And the trees are budding green;
The lark is in the sky,
With his music ringing loud,
Raining notes of joy
From the sunny Summer cloud--
Springing at the dawn
With the blushing light of day,
And quivering with delight
In the morning's golden ray;
But there 's rapture dearer far
In the warm and social power
Of the merry bowling-green,
In the happy evening hour!

The lights and shades of life,
Like an April day, are seen,
'Mid the melting sunny showers,
On the lively bowling-green.
The Spring and Autumn meet
When the old and young are there,
And mirth and wisdom chase
From the heart the thoughts of care.
When the creaking wheels of life
Are revolving weak and slow,
And the dashing tide of hope
May be ebbing dark and low,
The sons of wealth and toil
Feel the sweet and soothing power
Of the merry bowling-green,
In the charming leisure hour!

The streams of life run on
Till they fall into the sea;
And the flowers are left behind,
With their fragrance on the lea.
The circling flight of time
Will soon make the young folk old;
And pleasure dances on
Till the springs of life grow cold.
We 'll taste the joys of life
As the hours are gliding fast,
And learn to live and love
From the follies of the past;
And remember with delight,
When misfortunes intervene,
The happy days we 've spent
On the merry bowling-green.