Poems (Blind)/Echoes of Spring/I.
ECHOES OF SPRING.
I.
I.
I walk about in driving snow, And drizzling rain, splashed o'er and o’er;No sign that radiant spring e'en now Stands at the threshold of the door.
No sign that fragrant violets burn To burst the ground and quicken forth;No sign that swallow flights return, To gladden all the serious north.
But in my breast-what flutterings here! What bursts of song! what twitt'rings blest!Sure the first swallow of the year Within my heart has built her nest.