Hark, I hear a robin calling! <br />List, the wind is from the south! <br />And the orchard-bloom is falling <br />Sweet as kisses on the mouth. <br /> <br />In the dreamy vale of beeches <br />Fair and faint is woven mist, <br />And the river's orient reaches <br />Are the palest amethyst. <br /> <br />Every limpid brook is singing <br />Of the lure of April days; <br />Every piney glen is ringing <br />With the maddest roundelays. <br /> <br />Come and let us seek together <br />Springtime lore of daffodils, <br />Giving to the golden weather <br />Greeting on the sun-warm hills. <br /> <br />Ours shall be the moonrise stealing <br />Through the birches ivory-white; <br />Ours shall be the mystic healing <br />Of the velvet-footed night. <br /> <br />Ours shall be the gypsy winding <br />Of the path with violets blue, <br />Ours at last the wizard finding <br />Of the land where dreams come true.<br /><br />Lucy Maud Montgomery<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spring-song-2/
