WITH fanfare and with tantivy The chasing winds swept past; The night was wild as night could be But fell in hush at last. Dawn! and the Sun of March began To pace across the sky; No longer by the shortened span Of wintry days gone by. The journeying orb was clothed upon With subtile-spun array: It was, of light, the eidolon Amid a doubtful day. Now, like the thinnest wafer shone, Behind a cloud-film gray; And now, it seemed the moon, all wan, In heaven gone astray! But, swimming up the heightened arch, It pierced the veiling mist -- Lo, how the Silver Sun of March With silver all things kissed! Silver upon the waking streams And dipping willow-spray; Old stubble-fields caught silver gleams -- Old farm-roofs far away! And there was no obscurest spot But had its magic gleam ... The Silver Sun of March -- it shot A white ray on my dream! |