Classic Poem

Spring's mild companion calms the seas,
The wind blows up from Thrace;
The huddled hills that used to freeze
Shake off the cold embrace.
The seedling stirs; the roots are squirming;
And every bird is early-worming.

On soft young grass, the fattening sheep
Are tended by musicians
Who do their best to pipe and leap
According to traditions,
And chant their vernal panegyric
As shepherds do in every lyric.

“The year's at”—well, the thirsting time:
The trees suck up their sap;
The sun drinks on his lengthening climb;
The wine of love's on tap.
The earth's one sparkling ebullition …
This is no place for prohibition!

Come and forget the parching laws;
Away with dry excuses!
You shall espouse a heavenly Cause
With more than earthly juices!
Their genial glow shall make it warmer
For you—and any chance informer.

Come, for these interdicted jars
Will droop until you've kissed 'em;
Come and behold more brilliant stars
Than in the solar system.
Fools keep to wisdom in these glum times;
The wiser man forgets it—sometimes.