Iii

And thus it was I knew That though the trees were barren of all buds, And all the woods Of blossoms now, still, still their hoods And heads of blue and gold, And pink and pearl lay hidden in the mould; And in a day or two, When Spring’s fair feet came twinkling through The trees, their gold and blue, And pearl and pink in countless bands would rise, Invading all these ways With loveliness; and to the skies, In radiant rapture raise The fragile sweetness of a thousand eyes. When every foot of soil would boast An ambuscade Of blossoms; each green rood parade Its flowery host; And every acre of the woods, With little bird-like beaks of leaves and buds, Brag of its beauty; making bankrupts of Our hearts of praise, and beggar us of love.