YOUTH'S SPRING-TRIBUTE
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n this sweet bank your head thrice sweet and dearI lay, and spread your hair on either side,And see the newborn wood flowers bashful-eyedLook through the golden tresses here and there.On these debateable* borders of the yearSpring's foot half falters; scarce she yet may knowThe leafless blackthorn-blossom from the snow;And through her bowers the wind's way still is clear. But April's sun strikes down the glades to-day;So shut your eyes upturned, and feel my kissCreep, as the Spring now thrills through every spray,Up your warm throat to your warm lips: for thisIs even the hour of Love's sworn suitservice,With whom cold hearts are counted castaway. *[sic]
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