Spring-Song

Ah love, the sweet spring blossoms cling

To many a broken wind-tossed bough,

And young birds among branches sing

That mutely hung till now.

The little new-born things which lie

In dewy meadows, sleep and dream

Beside the brook that twinkles by

To some great lonely stream.

And children, now the day is told,

From many a warm and cosy nest,

Look up to see the young moon hold

The old moon to her breast.

Dear love, my pulses throb and start

To-night with longings sweet and new,

And young hopes beat within a heart

Grown old in loving you.