Henry Wadsworth Longfellow — Spring

Gentle Spring! in sunshine clad,        &nbsp Well dost thou thy power display! For Winter maketh the light heart sad,        &nbsp And thou, thou makest the sad heart gay. He sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train, The sleet, and the snow, and the wind, and the rain; And they shrink away, and they flee in fear,        &nbsp When thy merry step draws near. Winter giveth the fields and the trees, so old,        &nbsp Their beards of icicles and snow; And the rain, it raineth so fast and cold,        &nbsp We must cower over the embers low; And, snugly housed from the wind and weather, Mope like birds that are changing feather. But the storm retires, and the sky grows clear,        &nbsp When thy merry step draws near. Winter maketh the sun in the gloomy sky        &nbsp Wrap him round with a mantle of cloud; But, Heaven be praised, thy step is nigh;        &nbsp Thou tearest away the mournful shroud, And the earth looks bright, and Winter surly, Who has toiled for naught both late and early, Is banished afar by the new-born year,        &nbsp When thy merry step draws near.