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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455961" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Echoes Of Spring</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>I WALK about in driving snow,<br>And drizzling rain, splashed o'er and o'er;<br>No sign that radiant spring e'en now<br>Stands at the threshold of the door.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No sign that fragrant violets burn<br>To burst the ground and quicken forth;<br>No sign that swallow flights return,<br>To gladden all the serious north.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But in my breast--what flutterings here!<br>What bursts of song! what twitt'rings blest!<br>Sure the first swallow of the year<br>Within my heart has built her nest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II.<br>Oft on the gleaming April days,<br>When skies are soft, and winds are warm,<br>And in the air a subtle charm,<br>And on the hill a flight of rays;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When silver clouds slide through the blue,<br>Spreading a pure, transparent wing,<br>And all the budding branches ring<br>With blithesome birds, that warbling woo;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beneath a pear tree's shade I lay,<br>Deep bedded in the long thick grass,<br>And heard the twitt'ring swallow pass,<br>And grasshoppers at endless play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I knew, though flowers mine eyes did screen,<br>That butterflies danced in the light;<br>For, breaking sunbeams in their flight,<br>They flashed their shadows on the green.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And gazing up, in dreamful ease,<br>Where quiv'ring frail on shivery sprays,<br>The blossoms mix a milky maze,<br>What hum of golden-girted bees!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So lily-white, the tree, behold,<br>Seems set on fire by burnished lights,<br>And shoal on honeying shoal alights,<br>And turns the snowy boughs to gold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus on my spirit--music-fraught,<br>Burst swarms of glimm'ring melodies, <br>And like the yellow-banded bees,<br>Make honey of my flutt'ring thought.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>III.<br>Sometimes on my soul will throng<br>Such a blossom-burst of song,<br>That I cannot seize it all,<br>Letting sweetest measures fall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus a child feels--sudden sunk<br>On a crowding violet bank,<br>And delighted and amazed,<br>Gathers in a flushèd haste.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gathers them so fast and fleet,<br>Little fingers cannot meet<br>O'er the lot; and swifter still<br>Than they cull, the wealth they spill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To that sweets o'erflooded nook,<br>Casting back one longing look,<br>At the last it takes away<br>But one little odorous spray.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet through many a day and night,<br>Flinging back the fragrant sight,<br>Cleaves to face, and hands, and feet,<br>All the woodland's violets sweet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>IV.<br>Fain would I sing of each sweet sight and sound,<br>Of fleeting odours wheeling round and round,<br>Of sunbeams dancing on the virgin grass,<br>Of flocks of fleecy clouds that glimmer as they pass.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of larks, that lost in the blue ether float,<br>Of the weird blackbird's dream--enchanted note!<br>While the glad hedges palpitate with song,<br>That drops like murm'ring rain the dewy fields among.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of blooming bushes and of budding trees,<br>Of flaming flowers, dotting the grassy leas,<br>Of glowing pools and of the babbling rills,<br>That flash through azure mists, slumb'ring on folded hills.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fain would I sing, sweet April-time, of thee,<br>And mingle in thy wantonness of glee;<br>But thou such overwealth of sweets dost fling,<br>My heart is all too full, too full to speak or sing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>V.<br>There's somewhat in the loveliness of spring,<br>In the young light, and in the fragrant bloom,<br>In the sweet song that each soft breeze doth wing,<br>In the bright flowers that rise from earth's dark womb;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Which fills with sadness the presentient mind,<br>And for a far-off home awakes the sigh;<br>Which makes us gaze, with longings undefined,<br>On dim blue hills, and weep--we know not why.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VI.<br>Oh, birds, winged voices! children of the light!<br>Whose song is love, whose love is melody;<br>Shedding o'er hedge, and field, and bush, and tree,<br>Your tuneful joy and musical delight,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Making the air, the earth, the heavens bright;<br>Melodious, tender, sad and gay and free;<br>By all these gifts true poets born are ye;<br>Love circumscribes alone your restless flight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poets, I say? Ah, not like poets here,<br>That wander forth alone, companionless;<br>Whose lays are wrung from them by care and pain;<br>Who sing, while blinded by the hot salt tear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not such are ye; but free from all distress,<br>Ye, with the sunlight, range o'er land and main.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VII.<br>Oh, soft sweet air of early spring,<br>Again thou float'st on viewless wing,<br>Coax'st snowdrops their white bells to ring,<br>And wak'st the blackbird up to sing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Again, upon the bright'ning lea,<br>Beneath the budding bursting tree,<br>The toddling baby-mites I see,<br>Skip, jump, and frisk in lamb-like glee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I am sad, I know not why;<br>My breast heaves with the long-drawn sigh;<br>The tear rounds slowly in mine eye;<br>I'd like to lay me down and die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>VIII.<br>The blooming hedge, the budding grove,<br>Resound with notes of joy and love;<br>The gleaming bush, the glimm'ring tree,<br>Live with a dewy melody.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Along the meadows, flashing bright,<br>Run trills of shrill and sweet delight;<br>E'en the small snowy clouds among,<br>Gush showers on showers of silver song.<br>But thou, my heart, oh, tell me why<br>Hast thou no language but a sigh?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>IX.<br>Like a flower-fall of rain,<br>Like a snowy elfin train,<br>Like stray gleams of moonlight fair,<br>Do you shift upon the air,<br>Do you flutter on the breeze,<br>Do you fall upon the leas,<br>Blossoms of the apple-trees;<br>Then on earth's bosom slow ye fade away,<br>Like to a low and sweetly dying lay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>X.<br>With thousand gaps the earth is split,<br>By sunbeams wounded o'er and o'er,<br>My heart, it acheth bit by bit;<br>Life's heat and dust have made it sore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When wilt thou fall from clouds above,<br>In silver showers, refreshing rain?<br>When wilt thou come, reviving love,<br>With dew, and make me whole again?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A little while, big drops will slake,<br>Oh, earth, thy thirst's hot agony;<br>But till my fevered heart doth break, <br>Will solace ever come to me?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mathilde+Blind">Mathilde Blind</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=455961" data-title="Echoes Of Spring de Mathilde Blind" data-description="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 ..."></div>
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