To Know The Heart Of Spring.

It is not enough to mark that Spring is here
With gown of leaf green shadow and young blossom in her hair,
To glimpse the starry measures she dances with the winds
And hear the flute-notes of her laughter on the quiet air.
To know the heart of Spring one must have lain close-pressed
Against the cold, sweet earth and watched the countless creeping things
That have their life within the grasses; felt the pangs
Of birth in bud and calyx; caught the gleam of restless wings;
Been folded in the arms of lonely hills before
A rain-grey dawn; sought cool tree-haunts where little rivers sing.
Only then, for one enchanted rainbow hour,
Is it given man to know the inmost heart of Spring.

—Enid B. V. Saunders.