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Christopher Brennan - "Spring-ripple of green along the way, . ."
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Spring-ripple of green along the way, 
 keen plash of aery waves that play, 
 and in my heart 
 thy dreamy smart, O distant day! 
 Oh whisper hidden in the spring 
 of days when soul and song took wing 
 beneath her eyes, 
 twin smiling skies bent listening. 
 Oh cruel spell the season weaves! 
 heart-piercing smell of smoky eves, 
 all, all is old! 
 ironic gold that but deceives! 
 Strange spring, wilt only make me mourn? 
 Ah, for thy grace is overworn! 
 we are the ghost 
 of spring-tides lost and singing morn!
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