Classic Poem

An April day: the cold wind blew,
The dark clouds lowered, the thick snow flew,
And where the springing grasses lay green,
Ragged patches of white were seen.

Snow everywhere! I gazed with a sigh,
As the big flakes fell from the gloomy sky;
Loading the limbs of the budding trees,
Filling the hollows about their knees.

Had winter come back — the vanquished king —
And rudely throttled the maiden, spring?
But lo! from amid the storm I heard
The sweet, glad song of a tiny bird.

On a tufted twig, its feet in the snow,
Swung by the cold wind to and fro,
It sat and sang — that wee brown bird —
Putting to shame my petulant word.

The darkness lifted, the storm was done;
Through the broken cloud-rifts shone the sun;
A breath came up from the south, and the snow
Melted away in genial glow.

Spring reigned again; and again I heard
The joyous song of that dear brown bird.
With quickened pulses, and heart aglow,
I caught the refrain, " I told you so. "

Ah, little bird, had I faith like you,
When life and the world are dark to view!
When lowering skies are above me bent,
Could I feel your trust and your sweet content!

You sang, your tender feet in the snow,
Swung by the cold wind to and fro.
Your faith was sure, and now I repeat
Over and over the lesson so sweet.