Sang the redbreast over them hovering
All as the world were but just made new.
—ALICE CARY.
Daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim
But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes
Or Cytherea’s breath.
—WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE.
Could you not come when woods are green?