Page:Mine and Thine, Coates, 1905.djvu/23

 BROOK-SONG: TO THE SPRING

! vision of forgotten gladness!

Fulfillment of a dream that ne'er betrays!

O miracle of hope, and balm of sadness!

Creative ecstasy and fount of praise!

I lay upon the ground and gave no token,

I hid my face mid sodden leaves and sere,

My languid pulses chill, my spirit broken,—

I knew not, O divine one! you were near;

For snows and frosts of winter, new-departed,

Still held my will in thrall and weighed me down; 3