Desire in Spring

I love the cradle songs the mothers sing In lonely places when the twilight drops, The slow endearing melodies that bring Sleep to the weeping lids; and, when she stops, I love the roadside birds upon the tops Of dusty hedges in a world of Spring.

And when the sunny rain drips from the edge Of midday wind, and meadows lean one way, And a long whisper passes thro' the sedge, Beside the broken water let me stay, While these old airs upon my memory play. And silent changes colour up the hedge.