Classic Poem

When winter is done, and April's dawning
Shatters the dark of the year,
And the rain-fed rivulet under the bridge
Again runs clear,

And the shepherd sun comes over the hill
To let out the flocks of Spring,
With laughter and light in the pastures of air
The flocks take wing.

They scatter on every lingering wind,—
The perfume, and the bee,
And the whispers of the jostling grass,
Glad to be free,

The minstrelsy of the shining pools,
The dancing troops of the hours;
And over the sod in a sudden rapture
Flame the flowers.