When violets were springing <br />And sunshine filled the day, <br />And happy birds were singing <br />The praises of the May, <br />A word came to me, blighting <br />The beauty of the scene, <br />And in my heart was winter, <br />Though all the trees were green. <br /> <br />Now down the blast go sailing <br />The dead leaves, brown and sere; <br />The forests are bewailing <br />The dying of the year; <br />A word comes to me, lighting <br />With rapture all the air, <br />And in my heart is summer, <br />Though all the trees are bare.<br /><br />John Hay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/words-59/
