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Charlotte Smith - Sonnet LXXVIII. Snowdrops
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WAN Heralds of the sun and summer gale!
That seem just fallen from infant Zephyrs` wing;
Not now, as once, with heart revived I hail
Your modest buds, that for the brow of Spring
Form the first simple garland--Now no more
Escaping for a moment all my cares,
Shall I, with pensive, silent, step explore
The woods yet leafless; where to chilling airs
Your green and pencil`d blossoms, trembling, wave.
Ah! ye soft, transient, children of the ground,
More fair was she on whose untimely grave
Flow my unceasing tears! Their varied round
The Seasons go; while I through all repine:
For fix`d regret, and hopeless grief are mine.
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