A Girl's Song — Poem analysis

Oh, I would sing! Oh, I would cry! Oh, I would lay me down and die ! There is no lovely or strange thing I would not do this day in spring.

Why go the sighing winds unfurled? To blow me to the end of world. Why bud the flowers, except that I May pelt the stars out of the sky?

Why drips the rain its ancient way ? To blot out every yesterday, And gather time to this one hour, My golden thoughts its only dower.

Why curves the pool out in the grass? To make for me a looking-glass, Where I may see how glad a thing A girl in love this day in spring!

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Lizette Woodworth Reese, an American poet born in 1856, spent much of her life teaching English in Baltimore while writing compact, songlike lyrics. “A Girl’s Song” belongs to the late nineteenth century, when American poetry was beginning to turn toward modern experimentation, yet Reese’s voice remains closer to Victorian and Romantic traditions: direct in feeling, musical in form, and unafraid of high emotion. That context helps explain the poem’s intensity. It is less a description of spring than an eruption of youthful longing, in which the season seems engineered for one girl’s joy.

The poem’s central idea is that love completely reshapes perception. The speaker does not observe spring; she interrogates it. When the “sighing winds” blow, she asks why—and her answer is not meteorological but personal: “To blow me to the end of world.” The budding flowers exist so she “may pelt the stars out of the sky,” a playful, almost violent image that makes a girl’s high spirits seem powerful enough to rearrange the cosmos. Each natural detail, from rain to a pool, becomes an instrument of her mood. Even time itself is rewritten: the “ancient” rain falls to “blot out every yesterday” and compress all experience into “this one hour.” Love, the poem suggests, does not merely respond to the world; it makes the world answer back.

The structure supports that self-centered wonder. Four quatrains of paired rhymes create a songlike, almost nursery-rhyme certainty. The first two lines burst with repeated “Oh” exclamations—“Oh, I would sing! Oh, I would cry! / Oh, I would lay me down and die!”—as if the speaker cannot choose among ecstasy, grief, and death because all emotions have gathered into one overwhelming spring impulse. From the second stanza onward, the poem works through a pattern of “Why” questions and “To” answers, giving nature a clear, if absurd, purpose. The short four-beat lines keep this logic brisk and assured. There is no hesitation, no maybes, because hesitation does not belong to this feeling.

The imagery moves from huge gestures to intimate reflection. The stars and “end of world” suggest boundless desire, while the “pool out in the grass” brings the speaker back to herself. That pool becomes “a looking-glass” so she can see “how glad a thing / A girl in love this day in spring!” The word “glad” is deliberately simple, even plain, after all the cosmic upheaval. It pins the entire poem to an ordinary human happiness. Likewise, “golden thoughts” work as a “dower,” a bride’s gift of wealth, hinting that the speaker’s inner life is valuable enough to bestow upon time itself. The word “dower” feels old-fashioned and weighted, linking the girl’s passion to something lasting and ceremonial.

What makes “A Girl’s Song” significant is its refusal to apologize for feeling. It captures adolescence not as awkwardness but as a moment when the self is so full that the universe seems adjustable. The poem’s questions are not really about why winds blow or flowers bud; they are about what it is like to be so in love that every reason must point back to you. That intensity can sound naïve, but Reese transforms naïveté into music. For readers, the poem remains a small, precise reminder that one strong emotion can temporarily reorder the world, and that poetry can preserve that reordering with the clarity of a song.

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Heap slumber on your eyes; Stop your mouth with dust Be all that you were not, As dead folk must.
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Oh, let me run and hide, Let me run straight to God; The weather is so mad with white From sky down to the clod !
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Now since they plucked them for your grave, And left the garden bare As a great house of candlelight, Oh, nothing else so fair!