Helen M. Merrill Poems

O MAGIC music of the Spring,–
Across the morning's breezy meads
I hear the south wind in the reeds,
I hear the golden bluebirds sing.
...

MORNING on the misty highlands,
On the outer shining islands;
Gulls their grey way seaward winging
To the blinking zones of blue;
...

THE sea is green, the sea is grey,
The tide winds blow, and shallows chime;
Where earth is rife with bloom of May
The throstle sings of lovers' time,
...

THERE is a little hint of spring,
A subtle, silent, unseen thing
By shadowed wall and open way,
And I, a gypsy for the day,
...

WHEN the gulls come in, and the shallow sings
Fresh to the wind, and the bell-buoy rings,
And a spirit calls the soul from sleep
To follow over the flashing deep;
...