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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409194" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Late Spring</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, who will tell me, in these leaden days, <br>Why the sweet Spring delays, <br>And where she hides, -- the dear desire<br>Of every heart that longs<br>For bloom, and fragrance, and the ruby fire <br>Of maple-buds along the misty hills, <br>And that immortal call which fills<br>The waiting wood with songs?<br>The snow-drops came so long ago, <br>It seemed that Spring was near! <br>But then returned the snow<br>With biting winds, and all the earth grew sere,<br>And sullen clouds drooped low<br>To veil the sadness of a hope deferred:<br>Then rain, rain, rain, incessant rain<br>Beat on the window-pane,<br>Through which I watched the solitary bird <br>That braved the tempest, buffeted and tossed, <br>With rumpled feathers, down the wind again.<br>Oh, were the seeds all lost<br>When winter laid the wild flowers in their tomb? <br>I searched their haunts in vain<br>For blue hepaticas, and trilliums white,<br>And trailing arbutus, the Spring's delight, <br>Starring the withered leaves with rosy bloom. <br>The woods were bare: and every night the frost <br>To all my longings spoke a silent nay,<br>And told me Spring was far and far away. <br>Even the robins were too cold to sing,<br>Except a broken and discouraged note, --<br>Only the tuneful sparrow, on whose throat<br>Music has put her triple finger-print,<br>Lifted his head and sang my heart a hint, --<br>&quot;Wait, wait, wait! oh, wait a while for Spring!&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">II </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But now, Carina, what divine amends<br>For all delay! What sweetness treasured up,<br>What wine of joy that blends<br>A hundred flavours in a single cup,<br>Is poured into this perfect day!<br>For look, sweet heart, here are the early flowers,<br>That lingered on their way,<br>Thronging in haste to kiss the feet of May, <br>And mingled with the bloom of later hours, --<br>Anemonies and cinque-foils, violets blue <br>And white, and iris richly gleaming through <br>The grasses of the meadow, and a blaze <br>Of butter-cups and daisies in the field, <br>Filling the air with praise,<br>As if a silver chime of bells had pealed!<br>The frozen songs within the breast<br>Of silent birds that hid in leafless woods, <br>Melt into rippling floods <br>Of gladness unrepressed. <br>Now oriole and blue-bird, thrush and lark, <br>Warbler and wren and vireo,<br>Confuse their music; for the living spark <br>Of Love has touched the fuel of desire, <br>And every heart leaps up in singing fire.<br>It seems as if the land<br>Were breathing deep beneath the sun's caress, <br>Trembling with tenderness, <br>While all the woods expand, <br>In shimmering clouds of rose and gold and green, <br>To veil the joys too sacred to be seen. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">III </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Come, put your hand in mine,<br>True love, long sought and found at last,<br>And lead me deep into the Spring divine<br>That makes amends for all the wintry past. <br>For all the flowers and songs I feared to miss<br>Arrive with you;<br>And in the lingering pressure of your kiss<br>My dreams come true;<br>And in the promise of your generous eyes <br>I read the mystic sign <br>Of joy more perfect made <br>Because so long delayed, <br>And bliss enhanced by rapture of surprise. <br>Ah, think not early love alone is strong;<br>He loveth best whose heart has learned to wait: <br>Dear messenger of Spring that tarried long, <br>You're doubly dear because you come so late.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Van+Dyke">Henry Van Dyke</a><div class=q>
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<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=409194" data-title="Late Spring de Henry Van Dyke" data-description="I 

Ah, who will tell me, in these leaden days, 
Why the sweet Spring delays, 
And where she hides, -- the dear desire
Of every heart that longs
For bloom, and fragrance, and the ruby fire 
Of maple-buds along the misty hills, 
And that immortal c..."></div>
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