O Hearts awake, the fields are all aglow With buttercups run through them like a flame, The apple-trees have buds like flakes of snow, And flocks of wild, sweet birds no Spring can tame. Theirs are the only songs I care to know— The sweetest songs that have no words or name. O Hearts! go forth as birds do, even so, And sing your joy out boldly, without shame. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE KING'S THRESHOLD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS POE'S COTTAGE AT FORDHAM by JOHN HENRY BONER THE IMMORTAL MIND by GEORGE GORDON BYRON LAST WORDS TO A DUMB FRIEND by THOMAS HARDY ODE IN MEMORY OF THE AMERICAN VOLUNTEERS FALLEN FOR FRANCE by ALAN SEEGER |