O SPRING! I cannot run to greet Your coming as I did of old, Clad in a shining veil of gold, With champa-buds and blowing wheat And silver anklets on my feet. Let others tread the flowering ways And pluck new leaves to bind their brows, And swing beneath the quickening boughs A bloom with scented spikes and sprays Of coral and of chrysoprase. But if against this sheltering wall I lean to rest and lag behind, Think not my love untrue, unkind, Or heedless of the luring call To your enchanting festival. O Sweet! I am not false to you— Only my weary heart of late Has fallen from its high estate Of laughter and has lost the clue To all the vernal joy it knew. There was a song I used to sing— But now I seek in vain, in vain For the old lilting glad refrain— I have forgotten everything— Forgive me, O my comrade Spring! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIVULET by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT SESTINA: 1. OF THE LADY PIETRA DEGLI SCROVIGNI by DANTE ALIGHIERI SPELT FROM SIBYL'S LEAVES by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS RHOECUS by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL BRITANNIA TO COLUMBIA by ALFRED AUSTIN |