Classic Poem

'Tis not the murmuring voice of Spring
That stirs my heart and makes me sing;
'Tis not the blue skies, bubbling o'er
With sunshine spilled along earth's floor;
Nor yet the flush of bursting rose,
Nor bloom of any flower that grows.

It is that long, long time ago,
When all the world was blushing so—
It is that then my cheek blushed too,
My heart beat fast for love and you:
There was a music in the air
I fail to find now anywhere.

And so, when Spring comes wandering by,
I lose the thread of misery;
Trusting the promise of her days,
I tune my voice to sing her praise,
And cheat myself with the sweet pain
That in the spring Love blooms again.