Christina G. Rossetti

There goes the swallow,--
Could we but follow!
Hasty swallow, stay,
Point us out read more

There goes the swallow,--
Could we but follow!
Hasty swallow, stay,
Point us out the way;
Look back swallow, turn back swallow, stop swallow.

The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our fragrance on read more

The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our fragrance on the air,
Yet take no heed
Of humble lessons we would read.

The angel of spring, the mellow-throated nightingale.

The angel of spring, the mellow-throated nightingale.

The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
read more

The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
That is so silent, sweet, and pale:
Come, so ye wake the nightingale.

It's surely summer. for there's a swallow:
Come one swallow, his mate will follow,
The bird race read more

It's surely summer. for there's a swallow:
Come one swallow, his mate will follow,
The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken.