Spring Walkers
ISN’T there just a hint in the air
That spring’s hiding out in the garden somewhere?
Remember the place where the violets grew?
Let’s all go and see if they’ve been stirring too.
That sounded like wings, O! look it’s a bird.
How did he know that the mosses had stirred.
Before we can really think it is spring
He’s here on his faith, and started to sing.
Someone’s been here, the leaves have been tossed
As if one were looking for things that were lost.
And ruthlessly left to the late April snow
The pale slender necks of the first buds below.
Let’s cover them up, it doesn’t seem fair
To leave them like this, see that birch over there?
We’ll remember the place and come back again,
When the sun is some warmer, and there’s been a rain.
Let’s walk thru the wood, and come back this way
I dislike to go home, I wish it were May.
Here’s a place I adore, this tender dark wood.
It’s a source of delight, and if one only could
Just come here and visit awhile every day,
’Twould charm every heartache one has quite away.
This path has surprises at every bend.
This log has been here since I can’t tell you when.
We just walk around or climb over this way,
’Twould spoil the whole scene if they took it away.
This tree has been tired standing up long ago
’Twas March, the old roughneck, gave it the last blow.
It looks like a man-contrived arch o’er a drive,
The vines will cling round it and keep it alive.
I’m tired. Let’s go back, we’ve come a long way
I dislike to go home, I wish it were May.
Winter Woods
WOULD you like to walk to Elm Court
Now that winter’s here?
Yes it is a little chilly,
But you’ll like it, never fear.
I’d like to see that little path,
The one you sketched, you know,
After last night’s storm it surely
Must be rimmed around with snow.
The grey grouse slept I’m certain
Beneath the patches white,
The hills protrude a dazzling crest
Into the dawn’s cold light.
If attempts were made to climb
Up to its softened blue,
Every time we stepped up one
We’d slip back more than two.
But now, we’ll just go thru this woods
And this deep snow, my dear,
Will make a worth while picture
For it’s beautiful this year.
Let us plow thru this deep snow drift
To that small half frozen stream,
We’ll see nicer ferns I’ll wager
Than a summer’s ever seen.
Ferns in winter? yes there’s plenty.
Will you only just look here
How frost fashions from plain water
Things so beautiful and queer.
Wait awhile! here’s beauty,
This stream bank’s frozen dirt
Boasts an edge as sweet and dainty
As a lady’s underskirt.
In summer this is lovely
But old winter has its charms
When these tender little trees stand round
With ice clothes on their arms.
It’s very quiet, but lonely never,
You can push these twigs apart
And in the softened stillness
Almost feel and hear God’s heart.
And one may feel this darkness
Like soft velvet one unrolls,
Its very quiet is soothing,
To a city weary soul.
See these bushes! all the edges
Have a perfect picot hem,
Like women’s restless fingers
Had picked up now and then.
We must find the pathway back
When the sun comes stealing thru,
Like old magic, all these wonders
Will be dripping from our view.
I prefer to keep this picture
Just as we have seen it here,
This lovely morning, to my fancy
Is too beautiful, I fear.
Brother O’ Mine
DO you remember the cardinal’s call,
Brother O’ mine?
The hills that we climbed, be they ever so tall,
With never a fear for a hurt or a fall,
Wondering ever if skies did fall,
Brother O’ mine.
Many a hill we’ve climbed since then,
Brother O’ mine.
Been pelted with roses and rinsed with the rain
Of our sorrowing teardrops time and again;
Despair in our hearts and a clutch of pain,
Brother O’ mine.
And there were pebbles that hurt our feet
Brother O’ mine.
But the dust of the highway seemed velvet sweet
Tho’ many a cross and trials we’d meet,
With daisies and graves at our very feet,
Brother O’ mine.
Father we had in the bygone days,
Brother O’ mine.
And mother to wipe all our tears away.
Tho’ sodden the sky, and shadows be grey
God will speak clear of the mist some day,
Brother O’ mine.