We wandered through the soft spring days, And heard the flowers Talking among themselves of joys That were not ours. Till April in a softening mood Faltered a word The pretty gossips of the wood Had scarcely heard. But somehow you, you caught the lilt Of that wild speech The tiny tribesmen found occult Beyond their reach. Now when the rainman walks the field, And robin sings, I hark to promises that hold A thousand springs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONSECRATION HYMN by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL EPISTLE TO MRS. BLOUNT, WITH THE WORKS OF VOITURE by ALEXANDER POPE RAILROAD RHYME by JOHN GODFREY SAXE THE SORROWS OF WERTHER by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY FIRST ICE by KENNETH SLADE ALLING BROADCAST by KATHARINE LEE BATES |