When the white eagle of the North is flying overhead
And the browns, reds and gold of autumn lie in the gutter, dead.
Remember then the summer bird with wings of fire flaying
Come to witness spring's new hope, born of leaves decaying.
As new life will come from death, love will come with leisure.
Love of love, love of life and giving without measure
Gives in return a wondrous yearn of a promise almost seen.
Live hand-in-hand and together we'll stand on the threshold of a dream.