Poems (Probyn)/Ballad of spring

by May Probyn

BALLAD OF SPRING. (DOUBLE REFRAIN.)

When birds do sing, when buds do break,
 When violets blow along the lane,
Then is it our old loves do wake,
 Then our first grief grows young again.
 The cuckoos call from plain to plain;
The swallows skim the reedy lake;
 We clasp anew the long-lost pain,
And heavenward look with hearts that ache.

All flowers are here whose scent did make
 Our joy of life, our joy in vain—
We pale for their departed sake,
 And our first grief grows young again.
 We leave the blooms that yet remain—
As scentless they as snowstorm's flake!
 Dead things we seek in earth long lain,
And heavenward look with hearts that ache.

We touch cold hands with lips that quake;
 We kiss closed eyes with tears like rain;
Oh, buried dreams!—they stir—they shake—
 And our first grief grows young again.
 Behind us, where we spilled our grain,
In vain to search, and grope, and rake—
 We walk beside our empty wain,
And heavenward look with hearts that ache.

ENVOI.

Sad dreamers! dream not youth is slain
When our first grief grows young again;
Lost Futures they shall overtake,
Who heavenward look with hearts that ache.