KATE is like a violet, Gertrude's like a rose,
Jane is like a gillyflower smart;
But Laura's like a lily, the purest bud that blows,
SPRING, pretty Spring, what treasure do you bring to me?
Green grass and buttercups, cherry-bloom and may?
Does the wind sing in your ears at night, in the town,
Rattling the windows and doors of the cheap-built place?
Do you hear its song as it flies over marsh and down?
Do you feel the kiss that the wind leaves here on my face?
THERE is a grey-walled garden, far away
From noise and smoke of cities, where the hours
Pass with soft wings among the happy flowers,
ARE you going for a soldier with your curly yellow hair,
And a scarlet coat instead of the smock you used to wear?
IF we must part, this parting is the best:
How would you bear to lay
Your head on some warm pillow far away--
KNOWING our needs, hardly knowing our powers,
Hear how we cry to you, brothers of ours!--
Brothers in nature, pulse, passions, and pains,
1 The garden mould was damp and chill,
2 Winter had had his brutal will
3 Since over all the year's content
4 His devastating legions went.
LET Summer go
To other gardens; here we have no need of her.
She smiles and beckons, but we take no heed of her,
Now the Spring is waking,
Very shy as yet,
Busy mending, making
Grass and violet.