AMID fresh roses wandering, and the soft
And delicate wealth of apple-blossoms spread
In tender spirals of blent white and red,
Round the fair spaces of our blooming croft,
This morn I caught the gurgling note, so oft
Heard in the golden spring-tides that are dead,–
The swallow’s note, murmuring of winter fled,
Dropped silverly from passionless calms aloft:
“O heart!” I said, “thy vernal depths unclose,
That mirror Nature’s; warm airs, come and go
Of whispering ardors o’er thought’s budded rose,
And half-hid flowers of sweet philosophy;
While now upglancing, now borne swift and low,
Song like the swallow darts through fancy’s sky.”
(Paul Hamilton Hayne)
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Based on Topics: Fairness Poems, Winter Poems, Philosophy PoemsBased on Keywords: half-hid, ardors, silverly, apple-blossoms, spring-tides