Which saw the sprout and, as it were, green blade
Of the wild passion....
Changed me
From living man into green laurel whose
Array by winter's cold no leaf can lose.
(Ode 1.)
Love is that by which
My darknesses were made as bright
As clearest noonday light. (Ode 4.)
Elsewhere it is the light of heaven breaking in his heart, and springtime which brings the flowers.