Poems (Stephens)/In the springtime
IN THE SPRINGTIME.
I heard a sound of music unmeasured float along,
In breezes from the mountain, and in the brooklets' song,
The merry laugh of childhood, the feathered war-biers' note,
United in an anthem as from one tuneful throat,
And questioning my heart I said, what voice like this can sing?
Its quickened pulses answered, it is the voice of Spring.
In breezes from the mountain, and in the brooklets' song,
The merry laugh of childhood, the feathered war-biers' note,
United in an anthem as from one tuneful throat,
And questioning my heart I said, what voice like this can sing?
Its quickened pulses answered, it is the voice of Spring.
Before me lay the river, its waters silver bright,
Around were grassy meadows in mellow golden light,
The forest trees were waving their branches high in air,
And beautiful the blossoms that clustered here and there,
I asked whence came this beauty pervading everything
And Nature sweetly answered, it is the smile of Spring.
Around were grassy meadows in mellow golden light,
The forest trees were waving their branches high in air,
And beautiful the blossoms that clustered here and there,
I asked whence came this beauty pervading everything
And Nature sweetly answered, it is the smile of Spring.
Below me in the valley beside the silent mill,
Dark evergreens were standing in winter vesture still,
But when the sunlight touched them they too were passing fair,
For e'en the smallest branches seemed hung with jewels rare,
And very much I wondered what such a change could bring
Till fancy quaintly whispered, the gentle tears of Spring.
Dark evergreens were standing in winter vesture still,
But when the sunlight touched them they too were passing fair,
For e'en the smallest branches seemed hung with jewels rare,
And very much I wondered what such a change could bring
Till fancy quaintly whispered, the gentle tears of Spring.