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Alfred Austin - Another Spring Carol
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Now Winter hath drifted
 To bygone years,
 And the sod is uplifted
 By crocus spears;
 And out of the hive the bee wings humming,
 And we know that the Spring, the Spring, is coming.

 For the snow hath melted
 From sunless cleft,
 And the clouds that pelted
 Slant sleet have left
 The sky as blue as a child`s gaze after
 Its tears have vanished and veered to laughter.

 See! light is gleaming
 In primrose brakes,
 And out of its dreaming
 The speedwell wakes,
 And the tender tips of the timid clover
 Peep forth to see if the frost be over.

 The celandine gazes
 Straight at the sun;
 The starlike daisies
 Peer one by one;
 And, over the pool where the sallow glistens,
 The daffodil hangs its head and listens.

 At first but single,
 And then in flocks,
 In dell and dingle
 The lady—smocks
 Make mist for the golden cowslip tapers
 To shine like sunrise through morning vapours.

 In fat—ribbed fallows
 The lapwings nest,
 And the home—coming swallows
 Seek out where best
 They may build, with a love that is sure and stable,
 Their cosy cribs under last year`s gable.

 The blackcaps treble
 A strain as sweet
 As stream o`er pebble,
 Or wind through wheat,
 While, like flickering light, the kinglet hovers
 Round woodbined haven of hiding lovers.

 The lark chants, soaring
 From moist brown heath,
 `Twixt Heaven`s high flooring
 And earth beneath,
 Like a true wise poet, in wavering weather,
 A carol to link the twain together.

 The cuckoo, flaunting
 O`er glen and glade,
 Flies loudly vaunting
 New loves betrayed,
 Till we all of us echo the madcap saying,
 And laugh, and joyously wend a`maying.

 Then in mask and tabard
 The mummer trips,
 And out of its scabbard
 The iris slips,
 And calls to the lily and rose, ``Why tarry,
 Now the nightingale under the silence starry,

 ``Keeps trilling, trilling,
 Its nest above,
 The descant thrilling
 Of straining love,
 That yearneth for more—more—more,—till gladness,
 Still winged with wanting, seems one with sadness.``

 But once the roses
 And lilies blow,
 Our wilding posies
 Follow the snow,
 And, turning to greet the fair new comer,
 We find the face of the fearless Summer.

 But though sultry shimmer
 And panting heat
 Lure senses dimmer
 To deem them sweet,
 Who would not exchange their passionate thunder
 For May`s moist blushes of maiden wonder?

 But Winter hath drifted
 To bygone years,
 And the sod is uplifted
 By crocus spears;
 And out of the hive the bee wings humming,
 And we know that the Spring is coming, coming!
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