Paris In The Spring

If ever I should go again to Paris, I hope that I can be there in the spring. They say April is the time of year When love pervades the atmosphere. Couples stroll along the Seine, Arm in arm or hand in hand, They browse quaint bookstalls on the quay And share a kiss along the way. Perhaps they'll find a quiet nook Where they can sit, sip wine, and look Into each other's eyes and keep the world at bay. For Paris captures in its spell Those young messieurs and mesdemoiselles Who find romance a many-splendored thing. Where love's hopes and dreams survive and thrive, Old hearts may even come alive In that magic place that's Paris in the spring.