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Henry Timrod (Генри Тимрод)


Spring


Spring, with that nameless pathos in the air
Which dwells with all things fair,
Spring, with her golden suns and silver rain,
Is with us once again.

Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burns
Its fragrant lamps, and turns
Into a royal court with green festoons
The banks of dark lagoons.

In the deep heart of every forest tree
The blood is all aglee,
And there's a look about the leafless bowers
As if they dreamed of flowers.

Yet still on every side we trace the hand
Of Winter in the land,
Save where the maple reddens on the lawn,
Flushed by the season's dawn;

Or where, like those strange semblances we find
That age to childhood bind,
The elm puts on, as if in Nature's scorn,
The brown of Autumn corn.

As yet the turf is dark, although you know
That, not a span below,
A thousand germs are groping through the gloom,
And soon will burst their tomb.

Already, here and there, on frailest stems
Appear some azure gems,
Small as might deck, upon a gala day,
The forehead of a fay.

In gardens you may note amid the dearth
The crocus breaking earth;
And near the snowdrop's tender white and green,
The violet in its screen.

But many gleams and shadows need must pass
Along the budding grass,
And weeks go by, before the enamored South
Shall kiss the rose's mouth.

Still there's a sense of blossoms yet unborn
In the sweet airs of morn;
One almost looks to see the very street
Grow purple at his feet.

At times a fragrant breeze comes floating by,
And brings, you know not why,
A feeling as when eager crowds await
Before a palace gate

Some wondrous pageant; and you scarce would start,
If from a beech's heart,
A blue-eyed Dryad, stepping forth, should say,
"Behold me!  I am May!"

Ah! who would couple thoughts of war and crime
With such a blessëd time!
Who in the west wind's aromatic breath
Could hear the call of Death!

Yet not more surely shall the Spring awake
The voice of wood and brake,
Than she shall rouse, for all her tranquil charms,
A million men to arms.

There shall be deeper hues upon her plains
Than all her sunlit rains,
And every gladdening influence around,
Can summon from the ground.

Oh! standing on this desecrated mould,
Methinks that I behold,
Lifting her bloody daisies up to God,
Spring kneeling on the sod,

And calling, with the voice of all her rills,
Upon the ancient hills
To fall and crush the tyrants and the slaves
Who turn her meads to graves.



Henry Timrod's other poems:
  1. Hymn Sung at the Consecration of Magnolia Cemetery, Charleston, S.C.
  2. Too Long, O Spirit of Storm
  3. Hymn Sung at an Anniversary of the Asylum of Orphans at Charleston
  4. Lines to R. L.
  5. A Cry to Arms


Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Alfred Tennyson (Альфред Теннисон) Spring ("Birds' love and birds' song")
  • Samuel Johnson (Сэмюэл Джонсон) Spring ("Stern Winter now, by Spring repress'd")
  • Christina Rossetti (Кристина Россетти) Spring ("Frost-locked all the winter")
  • Gerard Hopkins (Джерард Хопкинс) Spring ("Nothing is so beautiful as spring")
  • William Morris (Уильям Моррис) Spring ("Spring am I, too soft of heart")
  • Isaac Rosenberg (Айзек Розенберг) Spring ("I walk and wonder")
  • Andrew Lang (Эндрю Лэнг) Spring ("Now the bright crocus flames, and now")
  • Robert Anderson (Роберт Андерсон) Spring ("The snow's dissolv'd, the chilly winter's fled")
  • Francis Ledwidge (Фрэнсис Ледвидж) Spring ("Once more the lark with song and speed")
  • Thomas Nashe (Томас Нэш) Spring ("Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king")
  • Janet Hamilton (Джанет Гамильтон) Spring ("Fairy Spring, in kirtle green")
  • Alfred Douglas (Альфред Дуглас) Spring ("Wake up again, sad heart, wake up again!")
  • William Campbell (Уильям Кэмпбелл) Spring ("There dwells a spirit in the budding year")
  • Edna Millay (Эдна Миллей) Spring ("To what purpose, April, do you return again?")
  • James Percival (Джеймс Персиваль) Spring ("AGAIN the infant flowers of Spring")
  • John Lapraik (Джон Лапрейк) Spring ("THOU goddess of the blooming Spring")
  • Lola Ridge (Лола Ридж) Spring ("A spring wind on the Bowery")

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