ALL singers have shadows <br /> That follow like fears, <br />But I know a singer <br /> Who never saw tears; <br />A gay love—a green love— <br /> Delightsome—divine: <br />The Spring is that singer— <br /> An old love of mine! <br /> <br />All players have shadows, <br /> And into the play <br />Old sorrows will saunter— <br /> Old sorrows will stay. <br />But here is a player <br /> Whose speech is divine: <br />The Spring is that player— <br /> An old love of mine! <br /> <br />All singers grow heavy: <br /> Their hours as they run <br />Bite up all the blossoms, <br /> Suck up all the sun; <br />But I know a singer <br /> Delightsome—divine: <br />The gay love—the green love— <br /> An old love of mine!<br /><br />John Shaw Neilson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-green-singer/
