Winter's icy hand has clutched our land
And cast a spell of stasis all around.
The life force sleeps without a whispered sound
And silent darkness makes its own demand.

Stillness not yet broken
By words of hope unspoken
Casts a shadowed blanket on the earth.
And through its quiet coil
The seeds lie in the soil
Waiting for the call of new re-birth.

But now the sun has smiled on our globe
And warmth has seeped into the frozen ground
To gently free the life which has been bound
To rise and don the Green Man's verdant robe.

Birds salute the morning
And the flowers now aborning
Glisten in the dew-filled days of spring.
And Oestre is our blessing
Of the Season's wondrous dressing:
The joy of life that it will gladly bring.