Hail, happy March, whose foot on earth Rings as the blast of martial mirth When trumpets fire men's hearts for fray. No race of wild things winged or finned May match the might that wings thy wind Through air and sea, through scud and spray Strong joy and thou were powers twin-born Of tempest and the towering morn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIGHT TO GRIEF by CARL SANDBURG TO A CASTILIAN SONG by SARA TEASDALE AT THE CLOSED GATE OF JUSTICE by JAMES DAVID CORROTHERS TO PFRIMMER (LINES ON READING 'DRIFTWOOD') by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR GULLS by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS |