by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Hark, I hear a robin calling!
List, the wind is from the south!
And the orchard-bloom is falling
Sweet as kisses on the mouth.In the dreamy vale of beeches
Fair and faint is woven mist,
And the river's orient reaches
Are the palest amethyst.
Every limpid brooke is singing
Of the lure of April days;
Every piney glen is ringing
With the maddest roundelays.
Come and let us seek together
Springtime lore of daffodils
Giving to the golden weather
Greeting on the sun-warm hills.
Ours shall be the moonrise stealing
Through the birches ivory-white;
Ours shall be the mystic healing
Of the velvet-footed night.
Ours shall be the gypsy winding
Of the path with violets blue,
Ours at last the wizard finding
Of the land where dreams come true.
6 comments:
tears to my eyes.
Don't you feel like your whole soul is coming back to life? I do. It's amazing what a few flowers will do for me.
Beautiful! Spring is truly the best time of year!
I agree with Cami. I start to thaw just a little this time of year. Beautiful words.
After the winter I have had (and it wasn't all about snow and cold), I'm ready for the hope and beauty of new life! Thanks, Kimberly!
I love that poem. And spring. And the fact that something like this would bring tears to SaRaH's eyes. I was not that awesome when I was her age...
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