“THE SWEET O’ THE YEAR.”

How can I help from laughing while

The daffodilies at me smile;

The tickled dew winks tipsily

In clusters of the lilac-tree;

The crocuses and hyacinths

Storm through the grassy labyrinths

A mirth of gold and violet;

And roses, bud by bud,

Flash from each dainty-lacing net

Red lips of maidenhood?

How can I help from singing when

The swallow and the hawk again

Are noisy in the hyaline

Of happy heavens clear as wine;

The robin lustily and shrill

Pipes on the timber-bosomed hill;

And o'er the fallow skim the bold,

Mad orioles that glow

Like shining shafts of ingot gold

Shot from the morning's bow?

How can I help from loving, dear,

Since love is of the sweetened year?

The very vermin feel her power,

And chip and chirrup hour by hour:

It is the grasshopper at noon,

The cricket's at it in the moon,

Whiles lizzards glitter in the dew,

And bats be on the wing;

Such days of joy are short and few.

Grant me thy love this spring.