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Littell's Living Age/Volume 169/Issue 2183/The Promise of Spring

               Have patience! still
Spring yet shall all her joyful tasks fulfil.
               She tarries long,
But all is ready; each bird knows his song,
          Each flower has got by heart
          Its fair or fragrant part;
          And given the word,
          Each bud and bird
Will proudly bring the lovely pageant on.
     Have patience! Sweeter, sweeter far
     Long-hoped-for treasures are
Than any we may have, without such waiting, won.

               Almonds will crown
With tender pale-pink blossoms branches brown;
               Whitethorns will prove
How sweetly silver may with green be wove.
          Orchards their snow will throw
          On daisied lawns below;
          Spires of soft bloom —
          Plumes of perfume —
Lilacs will lift through Spring's translucid air,
     Jove will descend to earth again
     In showers of golden rain,
Whilst Danae's heart is won by flowers laburnums bear.

               The throstles will
From scented choirs such glorious notes distil
               As if before
No lavish birds had scattered Nature's store;
          The larks her praise will sing
          As if no other Spring,
          Till this one, had
          Made small birds glad.
The cuckoos will with such fresh wonder call
     As though the sands had just begun
     Through Time's hourglass to run,
And earth was holding there the opening carnival.

               Nor there alone
Her gentle presence to us is made known.
               Spring comes also
To precincts where no birds or blossoms show.
          Softly she enters in
          Amid the roar and din
          Of the great town
          That cannot drown
The subtle message of her whispering winds,
     Then young and old, then each and all,
      'Neath her enchantment fall,
And in a thousand hearts an answering thrill she finds.