Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, IN SPRING-TIDE, by LEWIS MORRIS (1833-1907)



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

IN SPRING-TIDE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: This is the hour, the day
Last Line: Blossoming-time is come -- rejoice, joice, rejoice!
Subject(s): Spring


THIS is the hour, the day,
The time, the season sweet.
Quick! hasten, laggard feet,
Brook not delay;
Love flies, youth passes, Maytide will not last;
Forth, forth, while yet 'tis time, before the Spring is past.

The Summer's glories shine
From all her garden ground,
With lilies prankt around,
And roses fine;
But the pink blooms or white upon the bursting trees,
Primrose and violet sweet, what charm has June like these?

This is the time of song.
From many a joyous throat,
Mute all the dull year long,
Soars love's clear note;
Summer is dumb, and faint with dust and heat;
This is the mirthful time when every sound is sweet.

Fair day of larger light,
Life's own appointed hour,
Young souls bud forth in white --
The world's a-flower;
Thrill, youthful heart; soar upward, limpid voice;
Blossoming-time is come -- rejoice, joice, rejoice!





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