Oliver Herford

Why Ye Blossome Cometh before Ye Leafe

ONCE hoary Winter chanced—alas!
Alas! hys waye mistaking—
A leafless apple-tree to pass
Where Spring lay dreaming. “Fie, ye lass!
Ye lass had best he waking,”        
Quoth he, and shook hys robe, and, lo!
Lo! forth didde flye a cloud of snowe.

Now in ye bough an elfe there dwelte,
An elfe of wondrous powere,
That when ye chillye snowe didde pelte,        
With magic charm each flake didde melte,
Didde melte into a flowere;
And Spring didde wake and marvelle how,
How blossomed so ye leafless bough.