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Ballads and Lyrics of Socialism 1883-1908 . Nesbit, E. (Edith), 1858–1924.
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page: 71

Spring

  • ‘THE spring is here!’ the primrose says;
  • The birds exult—‘The spring is here!’
  • A veil of buds, desire and dear,
  • Is thrown across the lengthening days.
  • The furrowed field that was so brown
  • Is faintly gray with wet green spears,
  • Which shall be fruitful wheaten ears,
  • The golden autumn’s golden crown.
  • The sticky chestnut‐buds unfold,
  • The almond‐blossom pinkly gleams;
  • The freshness of our childhood’s dreams
  • Is on the moor, the wood, the wold.
  • The fat, blithe blackbirds on the lawn
  • Rejoice to see the grass grown green;
  • And starlings, where the thatched roofs lean,
  • Chatter in gray and windy dawn.
page: 72
  • And spring is here—but with the spring
  • Come bitter winds, and cold, cold showers:
  • Will these not slay the wakening flowers
  • And stay the buds from blossoming?
  • No—in despite of wind and rain,
  • The year will add to flowers new flowers,
  • Till summer comes with burning hours,
  • And all the roses live again.
  • And we—no chill that time can bring,
  • No icy wind of worldly scorn,
  • Shall ever make our souls forlorn
  • Of this sweet promise of the spring!
  • No cold, nor rain, nor wind is strong
  • To slay Hope’s seed our hearts within;
  • Freedom, we know, at last shall win,
  • Though Tyranny endures so long!
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