36.
Day and night alike the springtime
Makes with sounding life all-teeming;
Like a verdant echo can it
Enter even in my dreaming.
Then the birds sing yet more sweetly
Than before, and softer breezes
Fill the air, the violet’s fragrance
With still wilder yearning pleases.
E’en the roses blossom redder,
And a child-like golden glory
Bear they, like the heads of angels
In the pictures of old story.
And myself I almost fancy
Some sweet nightingale, when singing
Of my love to those fair roses,
Wondrous songs my vision bringing—
Till I’m waken’d by the sunlight,
Or by that delicious bustle
Of the nightingales of springtime
That before my window rustle.