It is the season when the elves of Spring Help up the first anemones that peep Through the young corn, and rouse from out their sleep The pale green hellebores for March to swing; Before they bid the field narcissus fling Its perfume on the furrows that they keep, Or let the wild red tulip's flame upleap In honour of great April's Fairy King. O God, to think that in a spring or two When she had learnt to run, we were to stroll Among the fields where work the busy elves, And see her pick the daffodils that strew Each olive-planted terrace and sweet knoll, And the wild tulips on the grassy shelves! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN TENEBRIS: 2 by THOMAS HARDY GYPSY MAN by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES AN ODE TO HIMSELF by BEN JONSON WALT WHITMAN by HARRISON SMITH MORRIS THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 7. SUPREME SURRENDER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI TWO WOMEN by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS |