Darling, thy form and fragrance haunt the Spring, <br />And every wind becomes thy messenger; <br />To whisperings of thee the woodlands stir, <br />And waves from out the western ocean bring <br />A freight of foam that leaves me wondering, <br />Who know thy bosom is as white. O spur <br />Of Spring, when every bird's a sorcerer. <br />And jonquils waken as the linnets sing! <br /> <br />Oh! Craig! it seems that Spring's transmuting word <br />Should turn each lifted flower to a bird. <br />Till all should flutter to thee where thou art; <br />Or else that every blossom should attain <br />The morning linnet's gift of song, and rain <br />A fragrant music on thy listening heart.<br /><br />George Sterling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blossom-or-bird/
