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James Whitcomb Riley - A Spring Song And A Later
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She sang a song of May for me,
  Wherein once more I heard
The mirth of my glad infancy--
  The orchard`s earliest bird--
The joyous breeze among the trees
  New-clad in leaf and bloom,
And there the happy honey-bees
  In dewy gleam and gloom.

So purely, sweetly on the sense
  Of heart and spirit fell
Her song of Spring, its influence--
  Still irresistible,--
Commands me here--with eyes ablur--
  To mate her bright refrain.
Though I but shed a rhyme for her
  As dim as Autumn rain.
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