  After the early spring’s dissolving powers Had eased the earth of winter’s icy weight, I went into the woods with soul elate To watch the coming of the first-born flowers; Fair Flora soon began to build her bowers Of leaf and bloom in forms both small and great, The trees put forth their canopies of state, And from the ground sprang up between the hours Most beauteous blossoms in a glorious band Of perfect shapes and colors richly blent, And all my soul was fill’d with glad content; But one pink hawthorn in a far-off land Sent all my thoughts like birds on eager wing Back to the beauty of Old England’s spring. |
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