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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.
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.
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
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April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
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The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
A flower-garden smiling.
Daughter of heaven and earth, coy Spring,
With sudden passion languishing,
Teaching barren moors to smile,
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Daughter of heaven and earth, coy Spring,
With sudden passion languishing,
Teaching barren moors to smile,
Painting pictures mile on mile,
Holds a cup of cowslip wreaths
Whence a smokeless incense breathes.
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn.
Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn.
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.
I come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
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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.