Now fades the last long streak of snow,
Now burgeons every maze of
About the flowering squares, and thick By ashen roots the violets blow.
Now rings the woodland loud and long,
The distance takes a lovelier hue,
And drowned in yonder living
The lark becomes a sightless song.
Now dance the lights on lawn and lea,
The flocks are whiter down the vale,
And milkier every milky sail,
On winding stream or distant sea;
Where now the seamew pipes, or
In yonder greening gleam, and
The happy birds, that change their
To build and brood, that live their
From land to land; and in my
Spring wakens too: and my
Become an April violet,
And buds and blossoms like the rest.
