Once more the lark with song and speed <br />Cleaves through the dawn, his hurried bars^; <br />Fall, like the flute of Ganymede <br />Twirling and whistling from the stars. <br /> <br />The primrose and the daffodil <br />Surprise the valleys, and wild thyme <br />Is sweet on every little hill, <br />When lambs come down at folding time. <br /> <br />In every wild place now is heard <br />The magpie's noisy house, and through <br />The mingled tunes of many a bird <br />The ruffled wood-dove's gentle coo. <br /> <br />Sweet by the river's noisy brink <br />The water-lily bursts her crown, <br />The kingfisher comes down to drink <br />Like rainbow jewels falling down. <br /> <br />And when the blue and grey entwine <br />The daisy shuts her golden eye, <br />And peace wraps all those hills of mine <br />Safe in my dearest memory.<br /><br />Francis Ledwidge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spring-194/
