LENT was dreary and late that year; April to May was going; But the loitering moon refused to round, And the wild southeast was blowing. Day by day, from my window high, I watched, a lonely warder, For a building bird in the garden-trees Or a flower in the sheltered border. But I only heard the chilly rain On the roof of my chamber beating, Or the wild sea-wind to the tossing boughs Its wail of wreck repeating; And said, 'Ah me! 'tis a weary world This cheerless April weather; The beautiful things will droop and die, Blossom and bird together.' At last the storm was spent. I slept, Lulled by the tired wind's sighing, — To wake at morn with the sunshine full On floor and garden lying; And lo! the hyacinth buds were blown; A robin was blithely singing; The cherry-blooms by the wall were white, And the Easter bells were ringing! It was long ago, but the memory lives; And in all life's Lenten sorrows, When tempests of grief and trouble beat And I dread the dark to-morrows, I think of the garden after the rain; And hope to my heart comes singing, 'At morn the cherry-blooms will be white, And the Easter bells be ringing!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COLORADO MORTON'S RIDE by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): THE MOVING ROCKS by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS TO MISS KINDER, ON RECEIVING A NOTE DATED FEBRUARY 30TH by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD COMMENDATORY VERSES TO WILLIAM BROWNE'S 'BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS' by WILLIAM BASSE |