THE winds are loud and trumpet-clear to-day; They seem to sound an onset, half in ire, Half in the wildness of a vague desire To force spring's fairy vanguard to delay; For here, methinks, worn winter stands at bay, Yet stands how vainly! spring-time's subtlest fire Melts his cold heart to nothingness, while nigher Draw April hosts, and rearward powers of May -- All maiden verdures, concords of sweet air, Stealing as dawn steals gently on the world; Breezes, balm-laden, blown from distant seas, With armies of blush-roses, dew-impearled, Till Earth reclaimed from winter's grim despair Blooms as once bloomed the fair Hesperides. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEW NEIGHBORHOOD by KAREN SWENSON THE FOUNTAIN (2) by SARA TEASDALE THE PAINS OF SLEEP by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SOLACE by CLARISSA SCOTT DELANY ON LIBERTY AND SLAVERY by GEORGE MOSES HORTON ON THE DEATH OF DR. ROBERT LEVET, A PRACTISER IN PHYSIC by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) |