 | English Roses |  |
SPRING.
Spring, like a splendid thief, comes on the lands445
It hangs its jewels on dead buds and brands
And steals away our hearts.
It runs in flame on branches pendulous
With weight of many years,
And wipes away with kisses amorous
The cold and lingering tears.
Before we know its presence a soft change
Falls on decay and blight,
And with a stirring beautiful and strange
Moves the embodied light.
It breathes with rapture on the balmy air,
And to the poplar spire
Steps in its glory up the rippling stair
The vegetable fire.
Till, beyond guessing, over the grim scars
A laughing gown of green
Is cast, and winter frets behind its bars
And idly frowns between.
For as a wedding garment earth assumes
Its resurrection dress,
As if it were God's laughter that illumes
Eternal loveliness.
| English Roses | |