Spring

And the Spring arose on the garden fair,

Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;

And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast

Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

The snowdrop, and then the violet,

Arose from the ground with warm rain wet;

And their breath was mixed with fresh odor, sent

From the tuft, like the voice and the instrument.

Then the pied windflowers and the tulip tall,

And narcissi, fairest among them all,

Who gaze bn their eyes in the stream's recess,

Till they die of their own dear loveliness;

And the hyacinth purple and white and blue,

Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew

Of music so delicate, soft and intense,

It was felt like an odor within the sense;

And the rose like a nymph to the bath addressed,

Which unveiled the depth of her glowing breast,

Till, fold after fold, to the fainting air

The soul of her beauty and love lay bare.

from The Sensitive Plant