INTIMATION

All night I smiled as I slept,

For I heard the March-wind feel

Blindly about in the trees without

For buds to heal.

All night in dreams, for I smelt,

In the rain-wet woods and fields,

The coming flowers and the glad green hours

That summer yields.

All night — and when at dawn

I woke with the blue-bird's cheep,

Winter with all its chill and pall

Seemed but a sleep.