Never yet was a springtime, <br />Late though lingered the snow, <br />That the sap stirred not at the whisper <br />Of the south wind, sweet and low; <br />Never yet was a springtime <br />When the buds forgot to blow. <br /> <br />Ever the wings of the summer <br />Are folded under the mold; <br />Life that has known no dying <br />Is Love's to have and to hold, <br />Till sudden, the burgeoning Easter! <br />The song! the green and the gold!<br /><br />Margaret Elizabeth Sangster<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/awakening-65/
