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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Daughter of heaven and earth, coy Spring,
With sudden passion languishing,
Teaching barren moors to smile,
read more
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.
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.
When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.
When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.
A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.
A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.
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.
Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
read more
Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea.
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.
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.
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.
