The roses of the day began to flower
In the Eastern garden; for heaven’s smiling brow,
Half insolent for joy, began to show:
The early sun came dancing lively out,
And the brag lambs ran wantoning about,
That heaven and earth might seem in triumph both to shout.
The engladdened Spring, forgetful now to weep,
Began to eblazon from her leafy bed;
The waking swallow broke her half-year’s sleep,
And every bush lay deeply purpured