WHEN hawthorn boughs begin to bud In eager green along the way, And merry songsters toss a flood Of melody from spray to spray, And in the budded branches play The little winds, not chill or loud, But, softly lifted, softly bowed, Making the perches rock and sway; Then, gladsome as the lamb and lark, I break from grievous thoughts away, -- Forget what's wrong, forget what's dark, And see the whole world good and gay. When pearly skies break up in blue, Raining out milky, misty gold, And all the sweet land through and through Is filled with pleasure manifold Of growth and light and music bold, To close the wound and cure the smart, And strengthen all the thankful heart In joyful praises dawnward rolled; Then meekly as the milkmaids bring Their primrose posies pure and cold, My soul grows happier -- thinking Spring The smile of him beneath the mould. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MODULATIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 6 by CLARENCE MAJOR |