WHEN garden plats are pinched and brown, Because the sun itself is cold; When streams are swollen, freighted down With sodden drift and the red mold; When plum trees, stripped of leafy gown, Toward the salt mist lean branches sere; Then hey, my heart, and ho, my heart, The turning of the year. When crows fly low and dusks are gray, And mists lie fleecy on the hills; When walks are bright at break of day, And from the hedge a robin trills; When leaf buds feel the rising play Of spring's intoxicating brew, Then hey, my heart, and ho, my heart, The year begins anew. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PASSING AWAY by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI BETTY TO HERSELF by EDWARD W. BANNARD CLIFF DWELLER LYRICS: A LITTLE NAP IN THE MORNING by BERTON BRALEY TO K. H. by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN TO EDWARD FITZGERALD by ROBERT BROWNING BEER by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY |