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George Meredith - The Sweet O` The Year
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Now the frog, all lean and weak, 
Yawning from his famished sleep, 
Water in the ditch doth seek, 
Fast as he can stretch and leap: 
Marshy king-cups burning near 
Tell him `tis the sweet o` the year. 

Now the ant works up his mound 
In the mouldered piny soil, 
And above the busy ground 
Takes the joy of earnest toil: 
Dropping pine-cones, dry and sere, 
Warn him `tis the sweet o` the year. 

Now the chrysalis on the wall 
Cracks, and out the creature springs, 
Raptures in his body small, 
Wonders on his dusty wings: 
Bells and cups, all shining clear, 
Show him `tis the sweet o` the year. 

Now the brown bee, wild and wise, 
Hums abroad, and roves and roams, 
Storing in his wealthy thighs 
Treasure for the golden combs: 
Dewy buds and blossoms dear 
Whisper `tis the sweet o` the year. 

Now the merry maids so fair 
Weave the wreaths and choose the queen, 
Blooming in the open air, 
Like fresh flowers upon the green; 
Spring, in every thought sincere, 
Thrills them with the sweet o` the year. 

Now the lads, all quick and gay, 
Whistle to the browsing herds, 
Or in the twilight pastures grey 
Learn the use of whispered words: 
First a blush, and then a tear, 
And then a smile, i` the sweet o` the year. 

Now the May-fly and the fish 
Play again from noon to night; 
Every breeze begets a wish, 
Every motion means delight: 
Heaven high over heath and mere 
Crowns with blue the sweet o` the year. 

Now all Nature is alive, 
Bird and beetle, man and mole; 
Bee-like goes the human hive, 
Lark-like sings the soaring soul: 
Hearty faith and honest cheer 
Welcome in the sweet o` the year.
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