 | The silver bridge and other poems |  |
52
THE MORNING OF THE YEAR.
A tender music, new and rare,
Breaks up the songless silences,—
The voice of the entreating air
Soliciting the leafless trees.
Breaks up the songless silences,—
The voice of the entreating air
Soliciting the leafless trees.
“Awake,” it calls—“O bashful buds,
The prelude of the birds is here,—
The sunlight falls in gracious floods,
It is the morning of the year!
The prelude of the birds is here,—
The sunlight falls in gracious floods,
It is the morning of the year!
“The lily-bulbs, unfearing, sprout
Along the garden-border's edge,
While peach trees stand in blushing doubt,
And half distrust spring's timid pledge;
Along the garden-border's edge,
While peach trees stand in blushing doubt,
And half distrust spring's timid pledge;
“The sparrow, constant evermore,
Begins anew his insect-quest,
The wren, beside the open door,
Peers curious at her last year's nest—
Begins anew his insect-quest,
The wren, beside the open door,
Peers curious at her last year's nest—
“The bluebird tunes his bravest lay
And fills the morn with sudden trills,
Soft lines of greenness mark the way
Of watercourses down the hills—
And fills the morn with sudden trills,
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Of watercourses down the hills—
“Awake, dull world, and cast aside
The mouldy robes of age and care,
Put on thy Eden-youth and pride—
Be glad again, and strong, and fair!
The mouldy robes of age and care,
Put on thy Eden-youth and pride—
Be glad again, and strong, and fair!
“Awake, awake, O drowsy buds—
The prelude of the birds is here,
The sunlight falls in tender floods,
It is the morning of the year!”
The prelude of the birds is here,
The sunlight falls in tender floods,
It is the morning of the year!”
| The silver bridge and other poems | |