The child now slackened her pace and began to sing: The snow's on the meadow, The snow's all around, The snow lies in heaps All over the ground.
Hurrah, oh hurrah! All over the ground.
Oh cuckoo from the woods, Oh flowers so bright, Oh kindliest sun, Come and bring us delight! Hurrah, oh hurrah! Come and bring us delight! When the swallow comes back And the finches all sing, I sing and I dance For joy of the Spring.
Hurrah, oh hurrah! For joy of the Spring.
The woods rang with her full, young voice, and her song also roused the birds, for they, too, now carolled loudly, ready to outdo each other.

Laughingly the child sang once more with all her might: Hurrah, oh hurrah! For joy of the Spring.
and from all the branches sounded a many voiced chorus.
Right on the edge of the woods stood a splendid old beech tree with a high, firm trunk, under which the child had often sought quiet and shelter after running about in the sun.

She had reached the tree now and was looking up at the far-spreading branches, which were rocking up and down.
The child, however, did not rest very long.

Over where the wind struck an open space, it blew as mightily as ever, and the roaring, high up in the tree-tops, seemed to urge her on to new exertions.

First she began fighting her way against the wind, but soon she turned.