The Red Flower - Poems Written in War Time by Henry Van Dyke
page 27 of 37 (72%)
page 27 of 37 (72%)
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In sodden green and watery gray.
But now from depths beyond our sight, The tide is turning in the night, And floods of color long concealed Come silent rising toward the light, Through garden bare and empty field. And first, along the sheltered nooks, The crocus runs in little brooks Of joyance, till by light made bold They show the gladness of their looks In shining pools of white and gold. The tiny scilla, sapphire blue, Is gently sweeping in, to strew The earth with heaven; and sudden rills Of sunlit yellow, sweeping through, Spread into lakes of daffodils. The hyacinths, with fragrant heads, Have overflowed their sandy beds, And fill the earth with faint perfume, The breath that Spring around her sheds. And now the tulips break in bloom! A sea, a rainbow-tinted sea, A splendor and a mystery, Floods o'er the fields of faded gray: The roads are full of folks in glee, |
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