<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341298" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A March Minstrel</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hail! once again, that sweet strong note!<br>Loud on my loftiest larch,<br>Thou quaverest with thy mottled throat,<br>Brave minstrel of bleak March!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hearing thee flute, who pines or grieves<br>For vernal smiles and showers?<br>Thy voice is greener than the leaves,<br>And fresher than the flowers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Scorning to wait for tuneful May<br>When every throat can sing,<br>Thou floutest Winter with thy lay,<br>And art thyself the Spring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While daffodils, half mournful still,<br>Muffle their golden bells,<br>Thy silvery peal o'er landscape chill<br>Surges, and sinks, and swells.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Across the unsheltered pasture floats<br>The young lamb's shivering bleat:<br>There is no trembling in thy notes,<br>For all the snow and sleet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let the bullace bide till frosts have ceased,<br>The blackthorn loiter long;<br>Undaunted by the blustering east,<br>Thou burgeonest into song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet who can wonder thou dost dare<br>Confront what others flee?<br>Thy carol cuts the keen March air<br>Keener than it cuts Thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The selfish cuckoo tarrieth till<br>April repays his boast.<br>Thou, thou art lavish of thy trill,<br>Now when we need it most.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The nightingale, while birds are coy,<br>Delays to chant its grief.<br>Brave throstle! thou dost pipe for joy<br>With never a bough in leaf.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Even fond turtle-doves forbear<br>To coo till woods are warm:<br>Thou hast the heart to love and pair<br>Ere the cherry blossoms swarm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The skylark, fluttering to be heard<br>In realms beyond his birth,<br>Soars vainly heavenward. Thou, wise bird!<br>Art satisfied with earth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy home is not upon the ground,<br>Thy hope not in the sky:<br>Near to thy nest thy notes resound,<br>Neither too low nor high.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blow what wind will, thou dost rejoice<br>To carol, and build, and woo.<br>Throstle! to me impart thy voice;<br>Impart thy wisdom too.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Austin">Alfred Austin</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341298" data-title="A March Minstrel de Alfred Austin" data-description="Hail! once again, that sweet strong note! Loud on my loftiest larch, Thou quaverest with thy mottled throat, Brave minstrel of bleak March! Hearing thee flute, who pines or grieves For vernal smiles and showers? Thy voice is greener than the leav..."></div> </div> </div>

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