Fair little scout, that when the iron year Changes, and the first fleecy clouds deploy, Comest with such a sudden burst of joy, Lifting on winter's doomed and broken rear That song of silvery triumph blithe and clear; Not yet quite conscious of the happy glow, We hungered for some surer touch, and lo! One morning we awake and thou art here. And thousands of frail-stemmed hepaticas, With their crisp leaves and pure and perfect hues, Light sleepers, ready for the golden news, Spring at thy note beside the forest ways— Next to thy song, the first to deck the hour— The classic lyrist and the classic flower. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DISCORDANTS: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN OUTWARD BOUND by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH IN THE STILLNESS O' THE NIGHT by WILLIAM BARNES THE RECOLLECTION OF THE PEOPLE by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER FAMILIARITY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE DRIED MILLPOND by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |