TO "GENERAL JANVIER."
("In the Spring a young man's fancy ...")
At it, old warrior! do your worst!
Here's Fevrier coming, moist and blowy,
And any trench you leave for him
Not saturated to the brim
He will accommodate its thirst
As in the days of Noë.
But we, well-armed in every pore
Against the tricks you mean to try on,
Will stick it out through slush and slime,
And bide, as best we may, our time
Till General Mars begins to roar
Just like a British lion.
And ere his exit, like a lamb,
The sloppy mess shall all be tidied,
And (since I can't believe that K.
Has said that things won't move till May)
We shall step out, as Shem and Ham
Did when the flood subsided.
Spring! Ah, to what a sanguine view
Thoughts of the vernal prime provoke us!
Yet never in my whole career
Can I recall a single year
When I so much looked forward to
The advent of the crocus.
For with the Spring, when youth is free
To execute its inward yearning,
Like to a lark (or other bird)
The soul of Thomas shall be stirred,
And to Berlin I hope to see
The young man's fancy turning.
O. S.