THE TOWN IN FEBRUARY HE who turns laneward these dear, subtle days Sees the stripped, swarthy brake tiptoe to bloom, While overhead the voyaging crows make gloom, And stir with husky notes the windless ways. Even here, a glittering thread through the walled maze Runs some fair hint of spring; oft falls a hush, And we do half believe we hear some thrush Sing ghostly sweet within the shifting haze. The dusk is later, earlier the dawn, And the shrill, lengthy nights that fret us so Are briefer grown; the old calms come once more. The time is April's with the bitter gone. And yet, just out of sight whirls the last snow, And all of March halts at the very door. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SOCIETY UPON THE STANISLAUS by FRANCIS BRET HARTE LUCASIA, ROSANIA, AND ORINDA PARTING AT A FOUNTAIN by KATHERINE PHILIPS CALIBAN [ON THE ISLAND], FR. THE TEMPEST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE FAIRY KING by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE BEACHCOMBER by MILDRED DOSCH BANTA |