 | Ballads and Lyrics of Socialism: 1883-1908 |  |
Spring
‘The spring is here!’ the primrose says;
The birds exult—‘The spring is here!’
A veil of buds, desired and dear,
Is thrown across the lengthening days.
The birds exult—‘The spring is here!’
A veil of buds, desired and dear,
Is thrown across the lengthening days.
The furrowed field that was so brown
Is faintly gray with wet green spears,
Which shall be fruitful wheaten ears,
The golden autumn's golden crown.
Is faintly gray with wet green spears,
Which shall be fruitful wheaten ears,
The golden autumn's golden crown.
The sticky chestnut-buds unfold,
The almond-blossom pinkly gleams;
The freshness of our childhood's dreams
Is on the moor, the wood, the wold.
The almond-blossom pinkly gleams;
The freshness of our childhood's dreams
Is on the moor, the wood, the wold.
The fat, blithe blackbirds on the lawn
Rejoice to see the grass grown green;
And starlings, where the thatched roofs lean,
Chatter in gray and windy dawn.
Rejoice to see the grass grown green;
And starlings, where the thatched roofs lean,
Chatter in gray and windy dawn.
72
And spring is here—but with the spring
Come bitter winds, and cold, cold showers:
Will these not slay the wakening flowers
And stay the buds from blossoming?
Come bitter winds, and cold, cold showers:
Will these not slay the wakening flowers
And stay the buds from blossoming?
No—in despite of wind and rain,
The year will add to flowers new flowers,
Till summer comes with burning hours,
And all the roses live again.
The year will add to flowers new flowers,
Till summer comes with burning hours,
And all the roses live again.
And we—no chill that time can bring,
No icy wind of worldly scorn,
Shall ever make our souls forlorn
Of this sweet promise of the spring!
No icy wind of worldly scorn,
Shall ever make our souls forlorn
Of this sweet promise of the spring!
No cold, nor rain, nor wind is strong
To slay Hope's seed our hearts within;
Freedom, we know, at last shall win,
Though Tyranny endures so long!
To slay Hope's seed our hearts within;
Freedom, we know, at last shall win,
Though Tyranny endures so long!
| Ballads and Lyrics of Socialism: 1883-1908 | |