THE PROCESSION OF SPRING 241 



" They have cursed me long as the bringer of woes, 



The parent of fogs and sleets ; 

 Did they know that I mellowed their land for the 

 grain, 



And killed the disease in their streets ? 



" But a reign that had been more mild, itself 



Was ruled by a chance of birth, 

 When ^olus filled my lungs with breath 



So keen that it scathed the earth. 



" You will lighten the touch of my iron hand. 

 You will breathe where I would blow, 



You will win more love from a thankless world 

 Than Winter was born to know. 



" Speed on, speed on," and he died in a blast 

 That emptied the cells of the North ; 



And then, as a meteor from the bound 

 Of heaven, the boy leapt forth. 



He met on his way the whistling swans 



And the wild geese going home ; 

 And laughed as he poised on his golden wings, 



For he knew that his strength was come. 



