  AMID the young year’s breathing hopes, When eager grasses wrap the earth, I see on greening orchard slopes The blossoms trembling into birth. They open wide their rosy palms To feel the hesitating rain, Or beg a longed-for golden alms From skies that deep in clouds have lain. They mingle with the bluebird’s songs, And with the warm wind’s reverie; To sward and stream their snow belongs, To neighboring pines in flocks they flee. O doubly crowned, with breathing hopes The branches bending down to earth, That feel on greening orchard slopes Their blossoms trembling into birth. |
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