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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.
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.
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."
Gentle Spring!--in sunshine clad,
Well dost thou thy power display!
For Winter maketh the light heart said,
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Gentle Spring!--in sunshine clad,
Well dost thou thy power display!
For Winter maketh the light heart said,
And thou,--makest the sad heart gay.
The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
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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.
And the spring comes slowly up this way.
And the spring comes slowly up this way.
For surely in the blind deep-buried roots
Of all men's souls to-day
A secret quiver shoots.
For surely in the blind deep-buried roots
Of all men's souls to-day
A secret quiver shoots.
When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.
When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.
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.
