 | Twilight Songs |  |
40
A SONG OF FEBRUARY.
Nothing's done with and nothing's over,
So am I February's lover.
All's beginning and yet to be;
Joy in the heart and sap in the tree;
Broken lights and the thrush's song;
Cold and slender, lovesome and young
February stands at an open door:
Death is over and life before.
So am I February's lover.
All's beginning and yet to be;
Joy in the heart and sap in the tree;
Broken lights and the thrush's song;
Cold and slender, lovesome and young
February stands at an open door:
Death is over and life before.
Age is forgotten and grief and sinning:
February's song's a song of beginning.
Dappled skies and the lambs in the fold,
New love stirring and one hour old.
Lances of green cleaving the furrow,
Fresh delights to-day and to-morrow,
Fair Maid February, she
Brings great tidings for flower and bee.
February's song's a song of beginning.
Dappled skies and the lambs in the fold,
New love stirring and one hour old.
Lances of green cleaving the furrow,
Fresh delights to-day and to-morrow,
Fair Maid February, she
Brings great tidings for flower and bee.
Now the dead are stirring and striving,
Flutter of silk, buzz of arriving,
Out of the shadows and new from the clay,
All in white for a wedding day,
They who were blind and dumb and unhearing.
All the graves of the world are stirring,
Death is done with and weeping over,
So am I February's lover.
Flutter of silk, buzz of arriving,
Out of the shadows and new from the clay,
All in white for a wedding day,
They who were blind and dumb and unhearing.
All the graves of the world are stirring,
Death is done with and weeping over,
So am I February's lover.
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