For works with similar titles, see Spring.
Spring
What so typifies the Spring
As golden jonquils blossoming,
Nodding now in ecstasy
That the earth has set them free?
Blue-bird on his branch a-swing,
Golden song unfaltering,
In the mosses green and wet
Tender, shy, sweet violet,
Clouds piled high amidst the blue
Making Heaven just for us two.
As golden jonquils blossoming,
Nodding now in ecstasy
That the earth has set them free?
Blue-bird on his branch a-swing,
Golden song unfaltering,
In the mosses green and wet
Tender, shy, sweet violet,
Clouds piled high amidst the blue
Making Heaven just for us two.
In the night the fragrant rain
Beats upon the window pane,
In the morning-dew empearled
Lurks the sunshine of the world,
In each drop soft opal hues
Darker tints and fairer fuse—
Wondrous mystic perfect whole
Like the joys of every soul,
Mingled with its deep despair,
Finds its rainbow promise there.
Beats upon the window pane,
In the morning-dew empearled
Lurks the sunshine of the world,
In each drop soft opal hues
Darker tints and fairer fuse—
Wondrous mystic perfect whole
Like the joys of every soul,
Mingled with its deep despair,
Finds its rainbow promise there.