I WHO love the Spring so well Shall be sleeping, some glad day, When her hosts come back to dwell In their old, familiar way. I shall live, alas! no more In some distant April hour, When the Spring flings wide her door, Calling leaf, and bloom, and flower. I shall sleep -- but I shall dream In my home beneath the ground, And my slumbering heart shall teem With its visions deep, profound. I shall know, ere you will guess (Though with life I have no part), What new golden loveliness Stirs within the old earth's heart. I shall hear the first soft sound When the Spring is born anew, And rejoice, beneath the ground, At the bliss to come to you. And the dreams that I shall dream, In that Spring when I am dead, May arise until they seem Blossoms white and blossoms red! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ASPIRATIONS OF A COUNTRY LAD by GEORGE SANTAYANA CHRISTMAS CAROL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE WOOING by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ANONYMOUS by JOHN BANISTER TABB UPON HIS LEAVING HIS MISTRESS by JOHN WILMOT THE SONG THAT SHALL ATONE by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE LITTLE OLD WOMEN; TO VICTOR HUGO by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE SHEPHERD'S PIPE: DEDICATION TO EDWARD, LORD ZOUCH by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |