The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent read more

The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its lovliness.

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.

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.

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.

Life stands before me like an eternal spring with new and brilliant clothes.

Life stands before me like an eternal spring with new and brilliant clothes.

For happiness one needs security, but joy can spring like a flower even from the cliffs of despair.

For happiness one needs security, but joy can spring like a flower even from the cliffs of despair.

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.

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.

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.