A SONG OF THE FOUR SEASONS WHEN Spring comes laughing By wind-flower walking And daffodil, Sing stars of morning, Sing morning skies, Sing blue of speedwell,— When comes the Summer, And gay birds gossip When Autumn scatters The broad-wheeled wain, Sing flutes of harvest Where men rejoice; Sing rounds of reapers,- But when comes Winter And red fire roaring And ingle warm,— Sing first sad going Of friends that part; Then sing glad meeting,And my Love's heart. THE PARADOX OF TIME (A VARIATION ON RONSARD) "Le temps s'en va, le temps s'en va, ma dame! Las! le temps non : mais NOUS nous en allons ! TIME goes, you say? Ah no! Alas, Time stays, we go; Or else, were this not so, What need to chain the hours, For Youth were always ours? Time goes, you say?—ah no! Ours is the eyes' deceit Lead through some landscape low; We pass, and think we see The earth's fixed surface flee : Alas, Time stays,—we go! Once in the days of old, Your locks were curling gold, And mine had shamed the crow. Now, in the self-same stage, We've reached the silver age; Time goes, you say?—ah no! Once, when my voice was strong, To praise your 66 rose" and "snow See, in what traversed ways, The hopes we used to know; How far, how far, O Sweet, TO A GREEK GIRL WITH WITH breath of thyme and bees that hum, Across the years you seem to come,— Across the years with nymph-like head, And wind-blown brows unfilleted; A girlish shape that slips the bud In lines of unspoiled symmetry; A girlish shape that stirs the blood With pulse of Spring, Autonoë! Where'er you pass,-where'er you go, How sweet with you on some green sod |