We wandered through the soft spring days, And heard the flowers Talking among themselves of joys That were not ours. Till April in a softening mood Faltered a word The pretty gossips of the wood Had scarcely heard. But somehow you, you caught the lilt Of that wild speech The tiny tribesmen found occult Beyond their reach. Now when the rainman walks the field, And robin sings, I hark to promises that hold A thousand springs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO GOD THE FATHER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE BISHOP ORDERS HIS TOMB AT SAINT PRAXED'S CHURCH by ROBERT BROWNING ON LIBERTY AND SLAVERY by GEORGE MOSES HORTON HAMPTON BEACH by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER AUTUMN LOVE by ALEXANDER (ALEKSANDR) ALEXANDROVICH BLOK |