Like a young tree, and in our souls again there was desire.
The Spring lay luxuriantly the earth over,
White roses broke like foam, and the hot clover
Seemed heavy with spent passion like a lover
Languorous, till the night
And the swift breezes white
Came like a cooling bell and rain, and our eyes grew brighter
With the new gleam of that celestial light.
Suddenly there was Romance laughing again,
And poetry in the strange ancient ways of men,