Les plus lus ▸
Harriet Monroe
I see the snow-drops flutter
Their white wings in the gale.
I hear the robin utter
On high his gallant tale.
Look where the rash wind chases
With clouds the climbing sun !
The day makes merry faces —
Gaily her gray steeds run.
The bare brown trees are swinging,
The curled waves roll and rail.
Ho ! — madcap Spring comes singing
On frosty Winter's trail!
Be patient with you?
When the stooping sky
Leans down upon the hills
And tenderly, as one who soothing stills
An anguish, gathers earth to lie
Embraced and girdled. Do the sun-filled men
Feel patience then?
Be patient with you?
When the snow-girt earth
Cracks to let through a spurt
Of sudden green, and from the muddy dirt
A snowdrop leaps, how mark its worth
To eyes frost-hardened, and do weary men
Feel patience then?
Be patient with you?
When pain's iron bars