John William Inchbold
Early Spring - Poem by John William Inchbold
Yet once again, O Spring, Spring sweet and fair!
In fresh March morning with the birds I sing,
The groves have had a bitter time to bear,
The sea has made the rocks around to ring,
The poor and old have wept the fire away,
Or shuddered, scarcely having strength to feel:
But Spring has come at last with keen bright day,
And clear-faced sun that many a woe can heal;
Ere leaf be on the tree, with violets few,
I sing for joy of all the joys to come,
Ere timid vagrant birds sail back, that flew
Instinctive, far from this their summer home;
O welcome thou my song, thrice welcome Spring,
And give thy loving heart its carolling.
Comments about Early Spring by John William Inchbold
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.