UNDER the snow in the dark and the cold, A pale little sprout was humming; Sweetly it sang, 'neath the frozen mold, Of the beautiful days that were coming. "How foolish your songs," said a lump of clay, "What is there, I ask, to prove them? Just look at the walls between you and the day, Now, have you the strength to move them?" But under the ice and under the snow The pale little sprout kept singing, "I cannot tell how, but I know, I know, I know what the days are bringing." "Birds, and blossoms, and buzzing bees, Blue, blue skies above me, Bloom on the meadows and buds on the trees, And the great glad sun to love me." A pebble spoke next: "You are quite absurd.' It said, "with your song's insistence; For I never saw a tree or a bird, So of course there are none in existence." "But I know, I know," the tendril cried, In beautiful sweet unreason; Till lo! from its prison, glorified, It burst in the glad spring season. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ENGLISHMAN IN ITALY by ROBERT BROWNING AN ANCIENT TO ANCIENTS by THOMAS HARDY HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 7 by EZRA POUND LINES ON THE MONUMENT OF GIUSEPPE MAZZINI by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE OWL (1) by ALFRED TENNYSON ON A VOLUME OF ANONYNOUS POEMS ENTITLED A MASQUE OF POETS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH QUATORZAINS: 10. TO POESY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |