University of Virginia Library


387

FEBRUARY.

What dost thou, laggard Daffodil,
Tarrying so long beneath the sod?
Hesper, thy mate, o'er yonder hill
Looks down and strikes with silver rod
The pools that mirrored thee last year,
Yet cannot find thee far or near.
Pale Primrose! for a smile of thine
Gladly to earth these hands would pour
An ivied urn of purple wine,
Such as at Naxos Bacchus bore
Watching with fixed black eyes the while
That pirate bark draw near his isle!
Shake down, dark Pine, thy scalp of snow:
False witch, stripped bare, grim Ash-tree tall!
Ye ivy masses that now swing slow
Now shudder in spasms on the garden wall,
Shake down your load and the black mould strew;
The rosemary borders and banks of rue.
The Robin, winter's Nightingale,
Hung mute to-day on the blackthorn brake:
We heard but the water-fowl pipe and wail
Fluting aloud on the lake;
Who hears that bell-note so clear and free,
Though inland he stands, beholds the sea.

388

As the moon that rises of saffron hue
Ascending, changes to white,
So the year, with the Daffodil rising new,
On Narcissus will soon alight:
Rise up, thou Daffodil, rise! With thee
The year begins, and the spring-tide glee!