WTien yew is out, then birch comes in, 



And many flowers beside. 

 Both of a fresh and fragrant kin, 



To honour Whitsuntide. 



Green rushes then, and sweetest bents. 



With cooler oaken boughs. 

 Come in for comely ornaments. 



To re-adorn the house. 

 Thus times do shift, each thing his turn does hold 

 New things succeed, as former things grow old. 



HERRICK. 



w 



EAGER SPRING 



HIRL, snow, on the blackbird's chatter ; 



You will not hinder his song to come. 



East wind, sleepless, you cannot scatter 



Quince-bud, almond-bud. 



Little grape-hyacinth's 



Clustering brood. 



Nor unfurl the tips of the plum. 



No half-bom stalk of a lily stops ; 



There is sap in the storm-torn bush ; 



And, ruffled by gusts in a snow-blurred copse, 



* Pity to wait ' sings a thrush. 



Love, there are few Springs left for us ; 

 They go, and the count of them as they go 

 Makes surer the count that is left for us. 

 More than the east wind, more than the snow, 



8i 



