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II
Nay, dream not for this arose
From out the dark stubborn mould
The crocuses', the daffodils' pure gold,
The violet's shy fragrance; not for this the sloes
In virgin raiment white
Greeted the first green flush of leaves adorning
One April morning
Their purple stems; whilst hedges,
And streamlets' spikey sedges,
Stood drenched in silvery sheen of early dew
Under a tremulous heaven's pale canopy of blue!
From out the dark stubborn mould
The crocuses', the daffodils' pure gold,
The violet's shy fragrance; not for this the sloes
In virgin raiment white
Greeted the first green flush of leaves adorning
One April morning
Their purple stems; whilst hedges,
And streamlets' spikey sedges,
Stood drenched in silvery sheen of early dew
Under a tremulous heaven's pale canopy of blue!
Hark!
In burgeoning tree and bush
The blackbird and the thrush
Each morn and eve enchanting
Mingle their notes of love:
And, that there be not wanting
To mid-day's heart a-panting
For melody, the cuckoo monotonously sweet
Doth child-like his familiar note repeat
From the elusive depth of some far distant grove.
In burgeoning tree and bush
The blackbird and the thrush
Each morn and eve enchanting
Mingle their notes of love:
And, that there be not wanting
To mid-day's heart a-panting
80
Doth child-like his familiar note repeat
From the elusive depth of some far distant grove.
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