WITH bounding heart, with eyes and cheeks aglow. Not caring how the frost may stab and sting, I haste along, where leafless branches fling Their clear blue shadows o'er the sun-lit snow. For though I count sad Winter as my foe, Within my heart I can create the Spring, Can hear sweet music, ere the thrushes sing, And see white flowers, before the pear-buds blow. These homely scenes, whence first my childish eye Its own ideal form of beauty chose, I love for ever; leaves and blossoms die, But this ethereal image lingers yet; And if I grieved, I could but grieve for those Who know not spring, or having known, forget. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FISHER by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE THE ADOPTED CHILD by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS ON MUSIC by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR DEATH AND THE MONK by ARTHUR E. BAKER A COMPARISON OF THE LIFE OF MAN by RICHARD BARNFIELD |