 | The March of Man and Other Poems |  |
155
SPRING SONG
The fragrance of awakening flowers
Quickens the breath of Spring;
Exulting in their bridal bowers
The mated wood-birds sing;
The lark is up; the gentle air
Carols light music everywhere.
Quickens the breath of Spring;
Exulting in their bridal bowers
The mated wood-birds sing;
The lark is up; the gentle air
Carols light music everywhere.
The bee sings at her lovely toil,
The cricket at his play;
The redbreast scans the fresh-turned soil;
The meadows, pied with May,
Shimmer beneath the trembling blue.—
Since all is song, I warble too.
The cricket at his play;
The redbreast scans the fresh-turned soil;
The meadows, pied with May,
Shimmer beneath the trembling blue.—
Since all is song, I warble too.
| The March of Man and Other Poems | |