Rowland Thirlmere - 1918
You may have seen, when
winds were high,
That hesitant buds would not
unfold
In garden-borders chill and
dry,
Bright with the Easter-lilies'
gold.
Then, suddenly, would come
a shower—
The big breeze veering to the
west—
And happier music filled the
bower
Above the thrush's hidden
nest:
The elm-tree's inconspicuous
bloom
Vanished amidst her little
leaves;
In box and bay a fragrant
gloom
Inspired the wren's
recitatives:
The woods assumed their
delicate green
And spoke in songs that
brought you bliss:
Ay, and your withered heart
has been
Quickened on such a day as
this!