Classic Poem

Ope your eyes, lift up your eyes,
Winds are blowing fair;
Winds are fair and skies are true,
Frost shall never make you rue—
Spring is in the air!

Have no fear, what is to fear?
Woods are washt and clean;
Woods are dusted green and gold,
Gone are sourness, winter cold—
Loving-time is in.

Kiss their lids, the rosy lids
Vein'd and silver-rimm'd,
Blushes on them—kiss them, Wind,
Kiss and leave no sting behind
Lest the eyes be dimm'd.

White and gold, wood-flowers, behold!
Powder'd o'er the copse:
Woods yet faint, but ye are strong,
Lead the virginal prick-song
Till the music stops.

Wild hedge-buds, O dewy buds,
Laugh ye, strain and sing:
Sing till leaves your sun shall hide;
Birds may hymn the Summer's pride—
Ye are gone with Spring.

Spring is shy, forward and shy,
Like a silly maid;
One that pouts when love is in,
Sighs that love may soon begin,
Droops her eyes and cocks her chin,
Eager and afraid.

Cuckoo call, O shout your call
Over wood and grass.
They will whisper it the river,
Life must leap or now or never—
Spring's a fickle lass!
Woo her then before she pass.