 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
23
Spring
Look! Winter now in trembling haste
Has snatched his robe from off the hills
And left to run their noisy race
The loud-voiced streams & twinkling rills
And hied him to his sunless cave
Round which the tempest's tongues unceasing rave.
Has snatched his robe from off the hills
And left to run their noisy race
The loud-voiced streams & twinkling rills
And hied him to his sunless cave
Round which the tempest's tongues unceasing rave.
Now to the music of the rills
The Zephyrs circle round the hills
And where the robe of Winter lay
The flowers peep forth to see their play
And turn their eyes of various hue
To catch again heaven's look of mildest blue.
The Zephyrs circle round the hills
And where the robe of Winter lay
The flowers peep forth to see their play
And turn their eyes of various hue
To catch again heaven's look of mildest blue.
The trees whose stiffened boughs of late
Rattled in Winter's icy blast
Yon free their arms with joy elate
To feel their iron bondage past
And stoop towards the river's breast
To view their limbs from Spring's green wardrobe drest.
Rattled in Winter's icy blast
Yon free their arms with joy elate
To feel their iron bondage past
And stoop towards the river's breast
To view their limbs from Spring's green wardrobe drest.
Poem No. 320a; spring 1835?
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