10
But hazel catkins, and the bursting buds
Of the fresh willow, whisper'd “spring is coming;”
And bullfinches forth flitting from the woods,
With their rich silver voices; and the humming
Of a new waken'd bee that pass'd; and broods
Of ever dancing gnats, again consuming,
In pleasant sun-light, their re-given time;
And the germs swelling in the red shoots of the lime:
Of the fresh willow, whisper'd “spring is coming;”
And bullfinches forth flitting from the woods,
With their rich silver voices; and the humming
Of a new waken'd bee that pass'd; and broods
Of ever dancing gnats, again consuming,
In pleasant sun-light, their re-given time;
And the germs swelling in the red shoots of the lime:
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.