 | Poems |  |
IV
[It came with the year's first crocus]
It came with the year's first crocus
In a world of winds and snows—
Because it would, because it must,
Because of life and time and lust;
And a year's first crocus served my turn
As well as the year's first rose.
In a world of winds and snows—
Because it would, because it must,
Because of life and time and lust;
And a year's first crocus served my turn
As well as the year's first rose.
The March rack hurries and hectors,
The March dust heaps and blows;
But the primrose flouts the daffodil,
And here 's the patient violet still;
And the year's first crocus brought me luck,
So hey for the year's first rose!
The March dust heaps and blows;
But the primrose flouts the daffodil,
And here 's the patient violet still;
And the year's first crocus brought me luck,
So hey for the year's first rose!
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