The year's at the spring/Gibson, W. W

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Sweet as the Breath of the Whin

SWEET as the breath of the whin
⁠Is the thought of my love—
Sweet as the breath of the whin
⁠In the noonday sun—
Sweet as the breath of the whin
⁠In the sun after rain.


Glad as the gold of the whin
⁠Is the thought of my love—
Glad as the gold of the whin
⁠Since wandering's done—
Glad as the gold of the whin
⁠Is my heart, home again.

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