 | Landmarks and other poems |  |
54
THE PEACH-BLOSSOMS.
SENT TO ME IN THE CITY, WITH THE WORDS, “IT IS SPRING.”
It was a gentle gift to send,
This thought in blossoms from a friend:
Within my city room
I seem to breathe the country air,
While April's kisses every-where
Start Earth's brown cheeks to bloom!
This thought in blossoms from a friend:
Within my city room
I seem to breathe the country air,
While April's kisses every-where
Start Earth's brown cheeks to bloom!
Oh, beautiful the welcome sight!
(Flushing my paper as I write,
My words seem blossoming!)—
The lovely lighted snow that falls
Rosy around the cottage walls,
A miracle of Spring!
(Flushing my paper as I write,
My words seem blossoming!)—
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Rosy around the cottage walls,
A miracle of Spring!
Dream-like, I hear the sunny hum
Of swarming bees; low voices come
Familiar, close, and dear:
I hardly know if I am there,
Or, shutting out the noisy air,
Those birds are singing here!
Of swarming bees; low voices come
Familiar, close, and dear:
I hardly know if I am there,
Or, shutting out the noisy air,
Those birds are singing here!
To the dry city's restless heart
What tender influence ye impart,
My blossoms, soft and wild!
Ah! from this barren cell I feel
Your subtle wand, enchanting, steal
Me to the Past—a child!
What tender influence ye impart,
My blossoms, soft and wild!
Ah! from this barren cell I feel
Your subtle wand, enchanting, steal
Me to the Past—a child!
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A child whose laughter-lighted face
Breaks from some happy door, a-chase
For new-wing'd butterflies:
The wind, how merrily, takes his hair!—
Sing, birds, and keep him ever there
With world-forgetting eyes!
Breaks from some happy door, a-chase
For new-wing'd butterflies:
The wind, how merrily, takes his hair!—
Sing, birds, and keep him ever there
With world-forgetting eyes!
Most gracious miracle of Spring
That gives the dead tree, blossoming,
Its resurrection hour!
Lo! Memory lifts her wizard bough,
(That seem'd as bare and barren,) now
Within my soul, in flower!
That gives the dead tree, blossoming,
Its resurrection hour!
Lo! Memory lifts her wizard bough,
(That seem'd as bare and barren,) now
Within my soul, in flower!
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