The Spring of the Year / Allan Cunningham

The Spring of the Year

Gone were but the winter cold,
    And gone were but the snow,
I could sleep in the wild woods
    Where primroses blow.

Cold's the snow at my head,
    And cold at my feet;
And the finger of death's at my e'en,
    Closing them to sleep.

Let none tell my father
    Or my mother so dear,–
I'll meet them both in heaven
    At the spring of the year.

~~
Allan Cunningham (1784-1842)
from The Oxford Book of English Verse, 1250–1900, 1919 

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Allan Cunningham biography

Gordon Griffiths, Spring Snow, 2013. CC BY-SA 2.0, Wikimedia Commons.