The Sweet o' the Year I How can I help from laughing while The daffodilies at me smile; The tickled dew winks tipsily In clusters of the lilac-tree; The crocuses and hyacinths Storm through the grassy labyrinths A mirth of gold and violet; And roses, bud by bud, Flash from each dainty-lacing net Red lips of maidenhood? II How can I help from singing when The swallow and the hawk again Are noisy in the hyaline Of happy heavens clear as wine; The robin lustily and shrill Pipes on the timber-bosomed hill; And o'er the fallow skim the bold, Mad orioles that glow Like shining shafts of ingot gold Shot from the morning's bow? III How can I help from loving, dear, Since love is of the sweetened year? The very vermin feel her power, And chip and chirrup hour by hour: It is the grasshopper at noon, The cricket's at it in the moon, Whiles lizzards glitter in the dew, And bats be on the wing; Such days of joy are short and few. Grant me thy love this spring. |
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