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XXII. SPRING
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119

XXII. SPRING

Just as a maiden newly wed,
Whose lips half long, whose heart half fears,
Meets love with smiles, while soft eyes shed
Triumphant tears,
The moon, that through the winter slept
In dreary caves of iron night,
Arose and smiled, arose and wept,
Arose, most bright.
The sun, with ardent amorous thirst
And lips that scoffed at cold delay,
Went madly craving for the first
Warm kiss of May.
The stars, that missed with grief and pain
The scent of flowers, the sound of mirth,
Smiled down from heaven and kissed again
The flower-sweet earth.

120

And Winter paled—aye, Winter fled
And rubbed his chapped old hands,
All cracked and roughened, seamed and red,
And sought far lands.
And I rejoiced. I heard, I felt,
A voice, a hand, that bade the grey
Grim winter from within me melt;
The voice, the touch, of May.