Late Spring - Richard Mitchley

Late Spring by Henry Van Dyke

Ah who will tell me in these leaden days

Why the sweet Spring delays

Where she hides the dear desire

Of every heart that longs

For bloom and fragrance and the ruby fire

Of maple-buds along the misty hills

And that immortal call which fills

The waiting wood with songs

The snow-drops came so long ago

It seemed that Spring was near

But then returned the snow

With biting winds and all the earth grew sere

And sullen clouds drooped low

To veil the sadness of a hope deferred:

Then rain rain rain incessant rain

Beat on the window-pane

Through which I watched the solitary bird

That braved the tempest buffeted and tossed

With rumpled feathers down the wind again

Oh were the seeds all lost

When winter laid the wild flowers in their tomb

I searched their haunts in vain

For blue hepaticas and trilliums white

And trailing arbutus the Spring's delight

Starring the withered leaves with rosy bloom

The woods were bare: and every night the frost

To all my longings spoke a silent nay

And told me Spring was far and far away

Even the robins were too cold to sing

Except a broken and discouraged note

Only the tuneful sparrow on whose throat

Music has put her triple finger-print

Lifted his head and sang my heart a hint

Wait wait wait oh wait a while for Spring

But now Carina what divine amends

For all delay What sweetness treasured up

What wine of joy that blends

A hundred flavours in a single cup

Is poured into this perfect day

For look sweet heart here are the early flowers

That lingered on their way

Thronging in haste to kiss the feet of May

And mingled with the bloom of later hours

Anemonies and cinque-foils violets blue

And white and iris richly gleaming through

The grasses of the meadow and a blaze

Of butter-cups and daisies in the field

Filling the air with praise

As if a silver chime of bells had pealed

The frozen songs within the breast

Of silent birds that hid in leafless woods

Melt into rippling floods

Of gladness unrepressed

Now oriole and blue-bird thrush and lark

Warbler and wren and vireo

Confuse their music; for the living spark

Of Love has touched the fuel of desire

And every heart leaps up in singing fire

It seems as if the land

Were breathing deep beneath the sun's caress

Trembling with tenderness

While all the woods expand

In shimmering clouds of rose and gold and green

To veil the joys too sacred to be seen

Come put your hand in mine

True love long sought and found at last

And lead me deep into the Spring divine

That makes amends for all the wintry past

For all the flowers and songs I feared to miss

Arrive with you;

And in the lingering pressure of your kiss

My dreams come true;

And in the promise of your generous eyes

I read the mystic sign

Of joy more perfect made

Because so long delayed

And bliss enhanced by rapture of surprise

Ah think not early love alone is strong;

He loveth best whose heart has learned to wait:

Dear messenger of Spring that tarried long

You're doubly dear because you come so late