Gateway to the Classics: Display Item
Rachel Lyman Field

In Spring

By every doorway lilacs lean,

Tufts of bloom in a mist of green.

The river goes blue and curving by

Under a bluer arch of sky.

There's a white cloud over the cherry tree

Like a little lost sail in a distant sea.

But never a thing that I can do

To show that the Spring is in me too!