WHERE winds abound, And fields are hilly, Shy daffadilly Looks down on the ground. Rose cones of larch Are just beginning ; Though oaks are spinning No oak-leaves in March. Spring's at the core. The boughs are sappy: Good to be happy So long, long before! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEW-MADE HONOUR (IMITATED FROM MARTIAL) by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM A DIRGE FOR MCPHERSON; KILLED IN FRONT OF ATLANTA by HERMAN MELVILLE THE REMEDY WORSE THAN THE DISEASE by MATTHEW PRIOR TO THE MEN OF KENT by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH TIPPERARY: 4. BY OUR OWN A. E. HOUSMAN by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |