Er is geen tijd die vergelijkbaar is met de lente; wanneer in de natuur het leven uit elke knop barst. 
En zich haast om weer te sterven zoals Christina Rossetti dicht in haar gedicht: 'Spring'
Hier de laatste twee coupletten:

There is no time like Spring,
When life’s alive in everything,
Before new nestlings sing,
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track –
God guides their wing,
He spreads their table that they nothing lack, –
Before the daisy grows a common flower
Before the sun has power
in his noontide hour. 

There is no time like Spring,
Like Spring that passes by;
There is no life like Spring-life born to die,
Piercing the sod,
Clothing the uncouth clod,
Hatched in the nest, 
Fledged on the windy bough, 
Strong on the wing: 
There is no time like Spring that passes by, 
Now newly born, and now 
Hastening to die.