Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DOWN WEIGAND WAY, by EDITH MEDBERY FITCH


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DOWN WEIGAND WAY, by                    
First Line: All winter long I've heard the song
Last Line: Down weigand way.
Subject(s): Poetry & Poets; Spring


All winter long I've heard the song
Of industry and thrift,
Where men must work nor any shirk
And none can dream or drift—
O, wrangling hoard! For bed and board
You barter life away;
But I will go a wandering
Where Spring her wealth is squandering,
Down Weigand Way.

Pink, waxy hearts, like little sparks
Of love are in the wood;
The birches nod their heads to God
As pious Druids should;
O, violets gold! Your wealth, untold,
Is mine to throw away;
So I am going a Maying
Where white birch trees are swaying,
Down Weigand Way.

The meadows green, with velvet sheen
Strew gems of heaven's hue
Around my feet, and fragrance sweet
Of grasses, dipt in dew,
With plum buds vie, and none can buy
Such perfume as in May,
Gay, careless Spring is scattering,
The distilled drops soft pattering
On Weigand Way.

Full well I know the rainbow glow
Of wee anemones
Upon the hills, and near the rills,
While clouds of noisy bees—
Deluded things, with angry stings—
Their frenzied zeal display;
I will not work, but wander,
And all my hours squander
Down Weigand Way.





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