A Saturday morning in May, tra-la
A Saturday morning in May
No lessons, and birds shouting ”Spring” tra-la
The garden and trees tendering, tra-la
The sounds of the town far away.
The sun has pulled off
Earth’s thick blanket of sloth
The beasts in the loam
Build a sweet-smelling home
How fine to be sensing,
How fine to be living,
On a Saturday morning in May.
-John F. Kennedy Library
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