Upon the trees the March winds ride, and clamor and cloud through the heavens stride; now girls let idle dreams alone, and would swing their hips where the dew is blown. They would flee from the house as the high clouds flee, as eager to bud as a growing tree; and one who could look in their eyes would say that in March he had had a glimpse of May. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIDNEY GODOLPHIN by CLINTON SCOLLARD OUR SCARLET KING by HAROLD MARTIN BOWMAN JEHANE by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 2 by BLISS CARMAN THE DOUBLE SKEIN by ALICE CARY |