Classic Poem

A GRASSY little knoll I know,
Before the windows of my home,
Where, when the chill days longer grow,
And the slow Spring has come,

Forth gleams a golden company
Of lowly blossoms through the grass,
Smiling a welcome back to me
As the soft Spring days pass.

Daily they take the cloudless sun;
With innocent faces free from guile,
And a sweet yearning never done,
They look on him and smile.

And while he shines, the livelong day,
From early morn to failing light,
Stands patiently the dense array,
Content and smiling bright.

But if cold rain or wintry hail
Touch them, the careful petals fold,
Safe where no violence may assail
Their shining cups of gold.

Oh, silent, innocent choir! I seem
To hear your fairy voices rise,
Extolling faint, as in a dream,
Your great Lord in the skies;

And read in your wide-opened eyes
Strange thoughts and human histories,
Till from your humble lives seems grown,
Life fairer than your own.

Fair celandines, I love to see
Each year your radiant company
Bloom golden on the springing grass,
As the quick seasons pass.

No careless foot shall come to mar
Your peaceful lives, while life is mine;
Still as the Spring-tide comes shall shine
Each multitudinous star,

So like the others, and the dead
Dear blossoms of forgotten Mays,
The joyous Springs which now are fled,
The wondering childish days.

When you, a joyous company,
Or yours, were of an age with me;
When marvels filled the earth and sky,
Nor you could fade, nor I.

Still shall I seem to hear your voice
Of joyous praise, though all be still;
The Spring-time, bidding all rejoice,
Through you and me shall thrill.

Whether we be alive on earth,
Or lying hidden in the mould,
The Spring shall come with throes of birth,
And clothe the fields with gold.

And me, whom the same Maker made,
Shall no renewal touch? Shall I
Beyond all hope decay and fade?
Deeper than Spring-tide lie?

Nay, nay! the sun shines overhead,
The Spring-tide calls, the winter's done;
At last, from close depths dark and dread,
I, too, shall greet the Sun.