Gone were but the Winter, <br />Come were but the Spring, <br />I would go to a covert <br />Where the birds sing; <br /> <br />Where in the whitethorn <br />Singeth a thrush, <br />And a robin sings <br />In the holly-bush. <br /> <br />Full of fresh scents <br />Are the budding boughs <br />Arching high over <br />A cool green house: <br /> <br />Full of sweet scents, <br />And whispering air <br />Which sayeth softly: <br />"We spread no snare; <br /> <br />"Here dwell in safety, <br />Here dwell alone, <br />With a clear stream <br />And a mossy stone. <br /> <br />"Here the sun shineth <br />Most shadily; <br />Here is heard an echo <br />Of the far sea, <br />Though far off it be."<br /><br />Christina Georgina Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spring-quiet/
