THERE is Someone abroad Who is it that passes O'er winter-bleached grasses With sandals green-shod? Who frees with His fingers The brown willow-pod? Who sets the brooks flooding, The daffodils budding, Who stirs the new sod? Oh, there's Someone abroad— See, snowdrops are showing The way of His going And wind-flowers nod— And listen, the heralds! The sounds of His coming, The flutes in the thicket, The singing, the humming— The wind beats the willows Like the cymbals together, And Aaron's dry rod Is a-flush with green feather— Oh, Someone's abroad! Who is it? Who is it? Why surely—'tis God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |