Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SPRING OF THE YEAR by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN

First Line: ON FIELDS OF FRANCE THE VIOLETS ARE FAIR
Last Line: BEYOND THE WISTFUL LIMIT OF OUR SPRING!
Subject(s): DEATH; SPRING; DEAD, THE;
ON fields of France the violets are fair,
The skylarks sing above the broad champaign;
But where are they who walked and listened there,
The hero-lads our spring finds not again?
They leave to us who did not share the fight,
The earth's expectancy of green delight.

Nay! They have journeyed to a sweeter bourne,
Where ghosts of all the garnered springs survive,
With all earth-joys that never will return,
And all the flowers that ever were alive;
Where bird-songs that have echoed through the years
Make harmony too sweet for mortal ears.

Oh, what a radiant company are they!
Forever one with all that's newly fair;
Out of the heat and burden of the day,
The blight of fall and winter's aged care.
They are Youth's Gladness, ever blossoming
Beyond the wistful limit of our spring!



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