Spring
Spring am I, too soft of heart Much to speak ere I depart: Ask the Summer-tide to prove The abundance of my love.
William Morris
Spring am I, too soft of heart Much to speak ere I depart: Ask the Summer-tide to prove The abundance of my love.
Spring itself is the speaker here, and right away it confesses to being “too soft of heart.” There’s a gentle vulnerability in that — the season isn’t bold or brash, but tender and easily moved. It tells us it has a lot to say before it goes, as if it’s already feeling the press of time.
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