Horace Mann, Lost, Two Golden Hours
The March WindsThe March winds are scurrying from the Southwest, to chase the old winter away. And buckets and tubs that are standing around jump quickly and shout ''Hip Hooray!''
And zig zag away here and there, in the yard. And the shingles, if loose, start to fly, And the waste-basket papers left outside the door, make a bee-line, then shoot for the sky!
Mrs. Biddy, the hen, tries again and again To visit her usual places
In her casual way, but the wind, on its way, commands, and she right about faces.
The cat curls up, near where the pup is asleep back under the porch, near the wall,
For outside where things act so crazy today, There's no chance to slumber at all.
The March winds are just one big boisterous show. With lions and clowns in the ring
And when the shows over we turn to behold the first blooming flowers of Spring!