THE winds are loud and trumpet-clear to-day; They seem to sound an onset, half in ire, Half in the wildness of a vague desire To force spring's fairy vanguard to delay; For here, methinks, worn winter stands at bay, Yet stands how vainly! spring-time's subtlest fire Melts his cold heart to nothingness, while nigher Draw April hosts, and rearward powers of May -- All maiden verdures, concords of sweet air, Stealing as dawn steals gently on the world; Breezes, balm-laden, blown from distant seas, With armies of blush-roses, dew-impearled, Till Earth reclaimed from winter's grim despair Blooms as once bloomed the fair Hesperides. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INTRODUCTION by AL-DHAHABI THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 4. THE PASSIONS by JOHN ARMSTRONG RACHEL by WILLIAM H. ARMSTRONG III GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 8 by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE FASHIONS, 1806 by LEWIS BEACH |