You may also want to consider the rather more poetical 'springtide' or 'springtime':

http://www.daypoems.net/poems/1170.html

http://spiritoftheages.com/Arthur_Rackham_-_''The_...

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/springtide-2/


"It Was a Lover and His Lass"
By William Shakespeare 1564–1616

It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
That o’er the green cornfield did pass,
In springtime, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.


Between the acres of the rye,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
Those pretty country folks would lie,
In springtime, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.


This carol they began that hour,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
How that a life was but a flower
In springtime, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.


And therefore take the present time,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
For love is crownèd with the prime
In springtime, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/180602

William Carlos Williams:
http://www.poetry-archive.com/w/the_widows_lament_in_springt...

Rudyard Kipling:

In Springtime

My garden blazes brightly with the rose-bush and the peach,
And the koil sings above it, in the siris by the well,
From the creeper-covered trellis comes the squirrel's chattering speech,
And the blue jay screams and flutters where the cheery sat-bhai dwell.
But the rose has lost its fragrance, and the koil's note is strange;
I am sick of endless sunshine, sick of blossom-burdened bough.
Give me back the leafless woodlands where the winds of Springtime range --
Give me back one day in England, for it's Spring in England now!

Through the pines the gusts are booming, o'er the brown fields blowing chill,
From the furrow of the ploughshare streams the fragrance of the loam,
And the hawk nests on the cliffside and the jackdaw in the hill,
And my heart is back in England 'mid the sights and sounds of Home.
But the garland of the sacrifice this wealth of rose and peach is,
Ah! koil, little koil, singing on the siris bough,
In my ears the knell of exile your ceaseless bell like speech is --
Can you tell me aught of England or of Spring in England now?

http://www.poemhunter.com/best-poems/rudyard-kipling/in-spri...

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Note added at 18 hrs (2012-04-08 18:26:30 GMT)
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given Nicole's additional posting, I am wondering whether 'spring/time/tide' is meant here at all, and whether instead this really means 'year rolls into year', 'year becomes year', even 'seasons merge'.

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Note added at 20 hrs (2012-04-08 20:28:54 GMT)
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When in life, past seasons merge...