Page:The year's at the spring.djvu/130

 THE • YEAR'S • AT • THE • SPRING

That we were well content.

Hungry for Spring I bent my head,

The perfume fanned my face,

And all my soul was dancing

In that lovely little place,

Away. . . upon the Downs.

I saw green banks of daffodil,

Slim poplars in the breeze,

Great tan-brown hares in gusty March

A-courting on the leas;

Home——what a perfect place!

EDWARD WYNDHAM TENNANT 90