The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.
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The beauteous eyes of the spring's fair night
With comfort are downward gazing.
The beauteous eyes of the spring's fair night
With comfort are downward gazing.
Spring makes its own statement, so loud and clear that the gardener seems to be only one of the instruments, read more
Spring makes its own statement, so loud and clear that the gardener seems to be only one of the instruments, not the composer.
Lo! where the rosy bosom'd Hours
Fair Venus' train appear,
Disclose the long-expecting flowers,
read more
Lo! where the rosy bosom'd Hours
Fair Venus' train appear,
Disclose the long-expecting flowers,
And wake the purple year.
Sweet Spring, full of sweet dayes and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My musick shows read more
Sweet Spring, full of sweet dayes and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My musick shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.
A man has every season while a woman only has the right to spring.
A man has every season while a woman only has the right to spring.
The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created spring.
The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created spring.
I come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
read more
I come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.
The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
read more
The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
A flower-garden smiling.
If there comes a little thaw,
Still the air is chill and raw,
Here and there a read more
If there comes a little thaw,
Still the air is chill and raw,
Here and there a patch of snow,
Dirtier than the ground below,
Dribbles down a marshy flood;
Ankle-deep you stick in mud
In the meadows while you sing,
"This is Spring."
