Green Boughs
Dark boughs of trees are reawakening,
A ripple of shadowy green moves on the earth,
A light wind lifts the boughs, the wind of birth,
Blowing to bud the tremulous flames of Spring.
Music of youth, fill the green earth, the grey sea;
White plover, cry your low, sweet-throated cry;
And be you silent, voices of prophecy,–
I remember, too, when it was spring with me.
~~
Frank Pearce Sturm (1879-1942)
from An Hour of Reverie, 1905
[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]
Frank Pearce Sturm biography
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