Spring has Sprung

The Enkindled Spring

This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes,
Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between
Where the wood fumes up, and the flickering, watery rushes.

I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration
Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze
Of growing, these sparks that puff in wild gyration,
Faces of people streaming across my gaze.

And I, what fountain of fire am I among
This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed
About like a shadow buffeted in the throng
Of flames, a shadow that's gone astray, and is lost.

Lines Written in Early Spring

I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:—
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.


Clay said...

Another storm doth come our way,
As February has its day.
The creek still frozen in its slumber,
The Spring of Life it doth encumber.

We're dreary of the skies of gray,
Look forward to the days of May
When birds will sing and flit around,
And their sweet voices they have found.

The winter of our discontent
Doth still continue - we must vent
All our frustration with being cold,
Not to mention, getting old!

farmwifetwo said...

Clay I was thinking more along the lines of...

"The weather outside is frightful, more snow was not delightful. And tomorrow there's another storm, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow"...


KWombles said...

Clay, that's a good addition. :)

Farmwifetwo, ick, sorry for that, These daffodils and periwinkle popped out yesterday. It was awesome to see.

farmwifetwo said...

Need another week of winter :( and then we need syrop weather for about 2 weeks. THEN, we can get spring....

Although tomorrow's storm depends on how far N the weather comes. We may get buried, we may get nothing at all. Will worry about it at 7am when I check to see if the buses are coming.