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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Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.
Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
They know who keep a broken tryst,
Till something from the Spring be missed
We have not read more
They know who keep a broken tryst,
Till something from the Spring be missed
We have not truly known the Spring.
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.
Starred forget-me-nots smile sweetly,
Ring, bluebells, ring!
Winning eye and heart completely,
Sing, robin, read more
Starred forget-me-nots smile sweetly,
Ring, bluebells, ring!
Winning eye and heart completely,
Sing, robin, sing!
All among the reeds and rushes,
Where the brook its music hushes,
Bright the caloposon blushes,__
Laugh, O murmuring Spring!
As quickly as the ice vanishes when the Father unlooses the frost
fetters and unwounds the icy ropes of read more
As quickly as the ice vanishes when the Father unlooses the frost
fetters and unwounds the icy ropes of the torrent.
Now spring returns; but not to me returns
The vernal joy my better years have known;
Dim read more
Now spring returns; but not to me returns
The vernal joy my better years have known;
Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns,
And all the joys of life with health have flown.
Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up read more
Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.
Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn.
Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn.
