 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
MARCH CROCUSES.
O fickle and uncertain March,
How could you have the heart,
To make the tender crocuses
From their beds untimely start?
How could you have the heart,
To make the tender crocuses
From their beds untimely start?
Those foolish, unsuspecting flowers,
Too credulous to see
That the sweetest promises of March
Are not May's certainty.
Too credulous to see
That the sweetest promises of March
Are not May's certainty.
When you smiled a few short hours ago,
What said your whisper, light,
That made them lift their pretty heads
So hopeful and so bright?
What said your whisper, light,
That made them lift their pretty heads
So hopeful and so bright?
I could not catch a single word,
But I saw your light caress;
And heard your rough voice softened down
To a lover's tenderness.
But I saw your light caress;
And heard your rough voice softened down
To a lover's tenderness.
O cruel and perfidious month,
It makes me sick and sad,
To think how yesterday your smile
Made all the blossoms glad!
It makes me sick and sad,
348
Made all the blossoms glad!
O trustful, unsuspecting flowers,
It breaks my heart to know,
That all your golden heads to-day
Are underneath the snow!
It breaks my heart to know,
That all your golden heads to-day
Are underneath the snow!
| [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |