THE LAST DAY OF WINTER 



The northward geese, with winged wedge, 



Have split the frozen skies, 

 And called the way for weaker wings, 



Where midnight lies. 



To-day a warm wind wakes the marsh; 



I hear the hylas peep 

 And o'er the pebbly ford, unbound, 



The waters leap. 



The lambs bleat from the sheltered folds ; 



Low whispers spread the hills : 

 The rustle of the spring's soft robes 



The forest fills. 



The night, ah me! fierce flies the storm 



Across the dark dead wold; 

 The swift snow swirls; and silence falls 



On stream and fold. 



All white and still lie stream and hill 



The winter dread and drear ! 

 Then from the skies a bluebird flies 



And spring is here! 



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