The speaker imagines winter finally giving way to spring, and with that change comes an intense wish to slip away into a hidden, green refuge. There, in a thicket of whitethorn and holly, birds sing quietly overhead. The focus isn’t on open fields but on an enclosed, protective space — a “cool green house” formed by arching boughs full of delicate scents. The air itself seems to whisper a promise: no traps are laid here, only safety and solitude. A clear stream and a moss-covered stone offer a still center, while the distant sound of the sea drifts in like a half-heard memory. The mood is less about joyful spring energy and more about quiet relief — a gentle, almost hushed escape from whatever snares the outside world might hold.
Spring Quiet — Summary
Gone were but the Winter, Come were but the Spring, I would go to a covert Where the birds sing;
Where in the whitethorn Singeth a thrush, And a robin sings In the holly-bush.
Full of fresh scents Are the budding boughs Arching high over A cool green house:
Full of sweet scents, And whispering air Which sayeth softly: "We spread no snare;
"Here dwell in safety, Here dwell alone, With a clear stream And a mossy stone.
"Here the sun shineth Most shadily; Here is heard an echo Of the far sea, Though far off it be."