Authors:
  • Nothing is so beautiful as spring-
    When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
    Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
    Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
    The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
    The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
    The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
    With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.
    What is all this juice and all this joy?
    A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginning
    In Eden garden.-Have, get, before it cloy...