To Spring
The thrushes throng the grove —
O golden notes,
Drenched with desire and love
From fairy throats!
How jocund are the field
And meadow greening!
What whisper has revealed
The warm wind's meaning?
A lark aloft outfloods
His chant afar,
As above sombre woods
A courier star.
The sun, the spring are here
And May's green dance.
The dreaming days appear
Of old romance.
Ah spring, ah May, in sooth
How throbs this hour!
How earth renews her youth!
The air, her power!
How everywhere lie light
And happiness! —
But in my heart the blight
Of grief's distress.
There sad love sorrowing
Bleeds slow away;
For in the grave my spring
Is laid for aye.
O golden notes,
Drenched with desire and love
From fairy throats!
How jocund are the field
And meadow greening!
What whisper has revealed
The warm wind's meaning?
A lark aloft outfloods
His chant afar,
As above sombre woods
A courier star.
The sun, the spring are here
And May's green dance.
The dreaming days appear
Of old romance.
Ah spring, ah May, in sooth
How throbs this hour!
How earth renews her youth!
The air, her power!
How everywhere lie light
And happiness! —
But in my heart the blight
Of grief's distress.
There sad love sorrowing
Bleeds slow away;
For in the grave my spring
Is laid for aye.
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