Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/274



, whom the faltering snow-cloud fears, Rise, let the time of year be May, Speak now the word that April hears, Let March have all his royal way; Bid all spring raise in winter’s ears All tunes her children hear or play, Because the crown of eight glad years On one bright head is set to-day.

What matters cloud or sun to-day To him who wears the wreath of years So many, and all like flowers at play With wind and sunshine, while his ears Hear only song on every way? More sweet than spring triumphant hears Ring through the revel-rout of May Are these, the notes that winter fears.