The following untitled verse on a separate letterpress page by Lewis Morris accompanies the plate Early Spring-Time:

This is the hour, the day,
The time, the season sweet.
Quick! hasten, laggard feet,
Brook not delay;
Love flies, youth passes, Maytide will not last;
Forth, forth, while yet ’tis time, before the spring is past.

This is the time of song.
From many a joyous throat,
Mute all the dull year long,
Soars love’s clear note;
Summer is dumb, and faint with dust and heat;
This is the mirthful time when every sound is sweet.

Lewis Morris.