The Coming of Spring - An 1867 Poem
By James Russell Lowell.
- First come the black-birds chattering in tall trees,
- And settling things in windy congresses,
- 'Ere long the trees begin to show belief,
- The maple crimsons is a coral reef,
- Then saffron swarms swing off from all the willows.
- So plump, they look like yellow caterpillars,
- Then gray horse-chestnuts little hands unfold,
- Soft as a baby's are at three day-old;
- This is the robin's almanac; he knows
- That after this there's only blossom snows;
- So choosing out a handy crotch and spouse,
- He goes to plastering his adobe house.
-
- Then seems to come a hitch things lag behind,
- 'Till some fine morning, Spring makes up her mind,
- And as, when snow swelled rivers crush their dams
- Heaped up with ice that dove-tails in and jams,
- A leak comes spurting through some pin-hole cleft,
- Grows stronger, fiercer, tears out right and left;
- Then all the waters bow themselves and come,
- Sudden in one great slope of shuddering foam,
- Just so our Spring gets everything in tune,
- And gives one great leap from April into June;
- Then all comes crowding in; before you think.
- The oak buds mist the side-hill woods with pink,
- The cat bird in the lilac bush is loud,
- In elm-tree shrouds the flashing hang-bird clings,
- And for the summer voyage his hammock slings.
- All down the loose-walled lanes and arching bowers,
- The barberry droops its strings of golden flowers;
- Whose shrinking hearts the school girls love to try
- With pins, they'll worry yours so, by and by!
- But lo! June's bridesman, poet of the year,
- Gladness on wings, the bobolink is here;
- Half hid in tip-top apple blossoms he swings,
- Of climbs against the breeze with quavering wings,
- Or, giving way to't in a mock despair,
- Runs down, a brook of laughter, through the air.
April 11, 1867. Highland Weekly News 30(51): 1. Done into common English, from the Yankee of the "Biglow Papers," by the Editor of the Ohio Farmer.