Robert Seymour Bridges (Роберт Сеймур Бриджес)

Shorter Poems. Book V. 7. The Palm Willow

See, whirling snow sprinkles the starvèd fields,
          The birds have stayed to sing;
No covert yet their fairy harbour yields.
            When cometh Spring?
Ah! in their tiny throats what songs unborn
            Are quenched each morn.

The lenten lilies, through the frost that push,
          Their yellow heads withhold:
The woodland willow stands a lonely bush
            Of nebulous gold;
There the Spring-goddess cowers in faint attire
            Of frightened fire.

1. Shorter Poems. Book III. 16. Song (I love my lady’s eyes)
2. Shorter Poems. Book III. 12. “Thou didst delight my eyes”
3. Shorter Poems. Book IV. 16. “Fire of heaven, whose starry arrow”
4. Shorter Poems. Book I. 15. Rondeau
5. Shorter Poems. Book III. 6. “Haste on, my joys! your treasure lies”

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