The hours that come between the colored drift Of leafage, purple, crimson and pale-gold; The plaintive voices new-born lambs uplift, Are locked within my spirit's inmost hold As gracious love ensheathes the one adored, Or wind-bound fugitives possess a cave Until tranquillity has been restored, And rending, howling, tempests cease to rave. Capricious winds and fingered tines of rain Transform the leaves from sparkling, racing foil; And tiny streams that stripe my window-pane Invigorate and slake the thirsty soil, Which hastens pallid lilies to be born To glorify their Lord on Easter morn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOTES FOR THE FIRST LINE OF A SPANISH POEM by JAMES GALVIN AUTUMN SONG by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |