The Advent of Spring

Under the beechful eye, When causeless brandlings bring, Let the froddering crooner cry, And the braddled sapster sing. For never and never again Will the tottering bauble bray, For bratticed wrackers are singing aloud, And the throngers croon in May!

The wrackling globe unstrung, Unstrung in the frittering light Of a moon that knows no day! Of a day that knows no night! Diving away in the crowd Of sparkling frets of spray, The bratticed wrackers are singing aloud, And the throngers croon in May!

Hasten, O hapful blue, Blue of the thimmering brow, Hasten to meet your crew, They'll clamour to pelt thee now! For never again shall a cloud Out-thribble the babbling day, When bratticed wrackers are singing aloud, And the throngers croon in May!