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.

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.

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.

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.

The beauteous eyes of the spring's fair night
With comfort are downward gazing.

The beauteous eyes of the spring's fair night
With comfort are downward gazing.

Gentle Spring!--in sunshine clad,
Well dost thou thy power display!
For Winter maketh the light heart said,
read more

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
read more

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
read more

The spring's already at the gate
With looks my care beguiling;
The country round appeareth straight
A flower-garden smiling.