The Spring comes slowly up this way, <br />Slowly, slowly, <br />Under a snood of hodden grey. <br /> <br />The black and white for her array, <br />Slowly, slowly, <br />The Spring comes slowly up this way. <br /> <br />Where is her green that was so gay? <br />Slowly, slowly, <br />The Spring comes slowly up this way. <br /> <br />Unto a world too sick for May, <br />Slowly, slowly, <br />The Spring comes slowly up this way. <br /> <br />Where are the lads that used to play? <br />Slowly, slowly, <br />The Spring comes slowly up this way. <br /> <br />She has no heart for holiday, <br />Slowly, slowly, <br />The Spring comes slowly up this way. <br /> <br />The trees are out in Heaven they say. <br />Slowly, slowly, <br />The Spring comes slowly up our way.<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-song-of-spring/
