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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472530" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Spring</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">WINTER is past; the heart of Nature warms<br>Beneath the wrecks of unresisted storms;<br>Doubtful at first, suspected more than seen,<br>The southern slopes are fringed with tender green;<br>On sheltered banks, beneath the dripping eaves,<br>Spring's earliest nurslings spread their glowing leaves,<br>Bright with the hues from wider pictures won,<br>White, azure, golden,--drift, or sky, or sun,--<br>The snowdrop, bearing on her patient breast<br>The frozen trophy torn from Winter's crest;<br>The violet, gazing on the arch of blue<br>Till her own iris wears its deepened hue;<br>The spendthrift crocus, bursting through the mould<br>Naked and shivering with his cup of gold.<br>Swelled with new life, the darkening elm on high<br>Prints her thick buds against the spotted sky<br>On all her boughs the stately chestnut cleaves<br>The gummy shroud that wraps her embryo leaves;<br>The house-fly, stealing from his narrow grave,<br>Drugged with the opiate that November gave,<br>Beats with faint wing against the sunny pane,<br>Or crawls, tenacious, o'er its lucid plain;<br>From shaded chinks of lichen-crusted walls,<br>In languid curves, the gliding serpent crawls;<br>The bog's green harper, thawing from his sleep,<br>Twangs a hoarse note and tries a shortened leap;<br>On floating rails that face the softening noons<br>The still shy turtles range their dark platoons,<br>Or, toiling aimless o'er the mellowing fields,<br>Trail through the grass their tessellated shields.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At last young April, ever frail and fair,<br>Wooed by her playmate with the golden hair,<br>Chased to the margin of receding floods<br>O'er the soft meadows starred with opening buds,<br>In tears and blushes sighs herself away,<br>And hides her cheek beneath the flowers of May.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then the proud tulip lights her beacon blaze,<br>Her clustering curls the hyacinth displays;<br>O'er her tall blades the crested fleur-de-lis,<br>Like blue-eyed Pallas, towers erect and free;<br>With yellower flames the lengthened sunshine glows,<br>And love lays bare the passion-breathing rose;<br>Queen of the lake, along its reedy verge<br>The rival lily hastens to emerge,<br>Her snowy shoulders glistening as she strips,<br>Till morn is sultan of her parted lips.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then bursts the song from every leafy glade,<br>The yielding season's bridal serenade;<br>Then flash the wings returning Summer calls<br>Through the deep arches of her forest halls,--<br>The bluebird, breathing from his azure plumes<br>The fragrance borrowed where the myrtle blooms;<br>The thrush, poor wanderer, dropping meekly down,<br>Clad in his remnant of autumnal brown;<br>The oriole, drifting like a flake of fire<br>Rent by a whirlwind from a blazing spire.<br>The robin, jerking his spasmodic throat,<br>Repeats, imperious, his staccato note;<br>The crack-brained bobolink courts his crazy mate,<br>Poised on a bulrush tipsy with his weight;<br>Nay, in his cage the lone canary sings,<br>Feels the soft air, and spreads his idle wings.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why dream I here within these caging walls,<br>Deaf to her voice, while blooming Nature calls;<br>Peering and gazing with insatiate looks<br>Through blinding lenses, or in wearying books?<br>Off, gloomy spectres of the shrivelled past!<br>Fly with the leaves that fill the autumn blast<br>Ye imps of Science, whose relentless chains<br>Lock the warm tides within these living veins,<br>Close your dim cavern, while its captive strays<br>Dazzled and giddy in the morning's blaze!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</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=472530" data-title="Spring de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="WINTER is past; the heart of Nature warms
Beneath the wrecks of unresisted storms;
Doubtful at first, suspected more than seen,
The southern slopes are fringed with tender green;
On sheltered banks, beneath the dripping eaves,
Spring's earliest nu..."></div>
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