DEAD is the dark Winter (Oh, the primrose on the hill!) March bloweth his fanfare I' the horn o' the daffodil. Rain water in the dykes Is clear as amber glass; It feedeth the tall spikes Of the high green grass. Earthward dancing sunbeams Wave their wizard wands, Flaggers into green flames Flicker by the ponds. Oh but March is kind! At every road's edge Sways on the warm wind A budding thorn hedge. And the crows have built their nest I' the highest bough of the larch. When the wind is from the west Mild and kind is March! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RUNNING TO PARADISE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS BIRD CONVERSATIONS, SELECTION by FARID OD-DIN MOHAMMAD EBN EBRAHIM ATTAR TO THE SIGHING STREPHON by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE DESECRATION OF THE HAN TOMB by CHANG TSAI THE MAN WITHOUT THE HOE by J. GORDON COOGLER LOVE'S SILENT HOUR by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE MINUET by MARY ELIZABETH MAPES DODGE ADVICE TO AN OLD MAN OF SIXTY-THREE, ABOUT TO MARRY A GIRL OF SIXTEEN by THOMAS FLATMAN |