A beckoning spirit of gladness seemed afloat, <br />That lightly danced in laughing air before us: <br />The earth was all in tune, and you a note <br />Of Nature's happy chorus. <br /> <br />'Twas like a vernal morn, yet overhead <br />The leafless boughs across the lane were knitting: <br />The ghost of some forgotten Spring, we said, <br />O'er Winter's world comes flitting. <br /> <br />Or was it Spring herself, that, gone astray, <br />Beyond the alien frontier chose to tarry? <br />Or but some bold outrider of the May, <br />Some April-emissary? <br /> <br />The apparition faded on the air, <br />Capricious and incalculable comer.-- <br />Wilt thou too pass, and leave my chill days bare, <br />And fall'n my phantom Summer?<br /><br />William Watson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-golden-hour/
