Poems (Spofford)/Alive

​
ALIVE.
 When the wild wake-robin starts in the wood  At the joy of the earth who escapes her bars, And the birches flutter in breezy mood,And the quick brooks run and sing in the sun  To some strain of the song of the morning-stars;
 When the gay rhodoras throng the swamp,  Like a settling cloud of winged things All a-quiver in purple pomp,And their green and gold the ferns unfold  To the far-heard murmur of hastening springs;
 When trilliums nod, and the columbines  Spread like flames through the forest gloom; ​ When in open field the white-weed shines,And the birds and bees in the apple-trees  Dart through skies of blue and bloom;
 When the whole bright orb is flashing along,  With her cloudy gossamers round her curled, A thing of blossom and leaf and song,—Still, I cry, is He far as the farthest star,  Or living and pulsing across his world?
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.