She was so young, it seemed that Spring had turned Earthward to make her before brooks were clear Of their last ice, -- before first blades appear Of grass, and not one April flower had burned Its little light under the pale blue sky. She was so young, I knew she could not know Anything more than that the wind can blow Dark violet-blooms to sway most delicately. But one calm evening, when a quiet star Was great and luminous above the west, We talked of what is good and bad and best, And how the nearest things are the most far, And how the things-that-are-not chiefly are . . . . I think, now, Spring's old self lives in her breast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CORINNA'S GOING A-MAYING by ROBERT HERRICK TWO RED ROSES ACROSS THE MOON by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) ELEGIAC STANZAS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH SONNET: 8 by RICHARD BARNFIELD LIGHTS THROUGH THE MIST by WILLIAM ROSE BENET GOD'S HUMOR by GAMALIEL BRADFORD |