Rupert Chawner Brooke

Song (All suddenly the wind comes soft)

 All suddenly the wind comes soft,
   And Spring is here again;
 And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green,
   And my heart with buds of pain.

 My heart all Winter lay so numb,
   The earth so dead and frore,
 That I never thought the Spring would come,
   Or my heart wake any more.

 But Winter's broken and earth has woken,
   And the small birds cry again;
 And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds,
   And my heart puts forth its pain.