March - An 1875 Poem

Lucy Lercoin, in St. Nicholas for March.

March! March! March! They are coming

In troops to the tune of the wind;

Red headed woodpeckers drumming,

Gold-crested thrushes behind;

Sparrows in brown jackets hopping

Past every gateway and door;

Finches with crimson caps stopping,

Just where they stopped years before.

 

March! March! March! They are slipping

Into their places at last, —

Little white lily-buds, dripping

Under the showers that fall fast;

Buttercups, violets, roses;

Snowdrop and bluebell and pink;

Throng upon throng of sweet posies,

Bending the dewdrops to drink.

 

March! March! March! They will hurry

Forth at the wild bugle-sound, —

Blossoms and birds in a flurry,

Fluttering all over the ground.

Hang out your flags, birch and willow!

Shake out your red tassels, larch!

Grass-blades, up from your earth pillow!

Hear who is calling you — March!

March 5, 1875. Sunbury American 6(47): 1, new series.