Sunday, June 4, 2017

A DESCANT, a poem

WHEN Spring comes tripping o'er the lea
     And grasses start to meet her,
          The bluebird sings
          With quivering wings
     Brief rhapsodies to greet her,
And deems—fond minstrel!—none may be,
The wide world over, blithe as he.

And where the brooklet tinkles by,
     And the yellow-snowdrop dances,
          And windflowers frail
          And bloodroots pale
     Lift up appealing glances,
The flute-voiced meadow-lark on high
Sings, "None on earth is glad as I!"

Laughs Corydon, "Your hearts are bold,
     Yet little ye can measure,
          Poor, silly birds,
          Spring's sweetest words,
     Or guess at my proud pleasure,
When Phyllis comes, and all the wold,
For sudden joy, buds into gold!"
"A Descant" by Florence Earle Coates. Published in Lippincott's Monthly Magazine (June 1890), Poems (1898) and Poems (1916) Volume II.

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