 | The pink book |  |
37
THE WAKING OF SPRING.
It was out in the wood,
One squally March morning,
Now the spears of the glittering rain
Flew along, and now the swift sunshine;
The cowslips were peeping amongst the dead leaves,
I sat at the foot of an elm tree.
One squally March morning,
Now the spears of the glittering rain
Flew along, and now the swift sunshine;
The cowslips were peeping amongst the dead leaves,
I sat at the foot of an elm tree.
And suddenly when the rain had done,
And the sunbeams danced with the tapping branches,
All down the wood there came a laughing,
Such thin, clear, beautiful rippling laughter.
And somebody said, “She is awake!”
“Awake?” I questioned, “Who?”
“Nay! Nay!” one answered, “Look thou and see.”
And the sunbeams danced with the tapping branches,
All down the wood there came a laughing,
Such thin, clear, beautiful rippling laughter.
And somebody said, “She is awake!”
“Awake?” I questioned, “Who?”
“Nay! Nay!” one answered, “Look thou and see.”
And turning I looked,
And there she was—Spring!
Blue-eyed, red-lipped,
With the rain-drops glistening on her sunny hair,
And the fretted sunshine all about her;
Laughing that liquid laughter.
And there she was—Spring!
Blue-eyed, red-lipped,
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And the fretted sunshine all about her;
Laughing that liquid laughter.
O, how it was blown through the woodland,
Down the wet, windy, sunbeam-haunted woodways,
Lilting, flying; mingling
With the fluting song of the wild thrush
And the cawings of the flustered rooks,
Hither and thither all day,
All through the varying day.
Down the wet, windy, sunbeam-haunted woodways,
Lilting, flying; mingling
With the fluting song of the wild thrush
And the cawings of the flustered rooks,
Hither and thither all day,
All through the varying day.
And the night was wild and troubled,
With rains and gusts and moanings,
But I said “She is come, the blue-eyed spring,
For has she not been all day in the wood?”
And then I slept, and at morning
Came the sun and the thrush and the windy weather.
“She is here again to-day,
O come thou out and see her.”
With rains and gusts and moanings,
But I said “She is come, the blue-eyed spring,
For has she not been all day in the wood?”
And then I slept, and at morning
Came the sun and the thrush and the windy weather.
“She is here again to-day,
O come thou out and see her.”
| The pink book | |