March, that comes roaring, maned, with rampant paws, <br />And bleatingly withdraws; <br />March,--'tis the year's fantastic nondescript, <br />That, born when frost hath nipped <br />The shivering fields, or tempest scarred the hills, <br />Dies crowned with daffodils. <br />The month of the renewal of the earth <br />By mingled death and birth: <br />But, England! in this latest of thy years <br />Call it--the Month of Tears.<br /><br />William Watson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mensis-lacrimarum/
