'TWAS but a hint of Spring -- for still The atmosphere was sharp and chill, Save where the genial sunshine smote The shoulders of my overcoat, And o'er the snow beneath my feet Laid spectral fences down the street. My @3shadow,@1 even, seemed to be Elate with some new buoyancy, And bowed and bobbed in my advance With trippingest extravagance, And, when the birds chirpt out somewhere, It seemed to wheel with me and stare. Above I heard a rasping stir -- And on a roof the carpenter Was perched, and prodding rusty leaves From out the choked and dripping eaves -- And some one, hammering about, Was taking all the windows out. Old scraps of shingles fell before The noisy mansion's open door; And wrangling children raked the yard, And labored much, and laughed as hard, And fired the burning trash I smelt And sniffed again -- so good I felt! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CENTER OF GRAVITY by DAVID IGNATOW THE HOUSE OF DREAMS by SARA TEASDALE THE OLD SQUIRE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE BAT by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE VOICE OF THE BANJO by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR IN THE MILE END ROAD by AMY LEVY |