There Is No Time Like Spring Richard Burchard

Frost-locked all the winter
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits
What shall make their sap ascend
That they may put forth shoots?
Tips of tender green
Leaf, or blade, or sheath;
Telling of the hidden life
That breaks forth underneath
Life nursed in its grave by Death

Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly
Drips the soaking rain
By fits looks down the waking sun:
Young grass springs on the plain;
Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees;
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits
Swollen with sap, put forth their shoots;
Curled-headed ferns sprout in thе lane;
Birds sing and pair again

There is no timе like Spring
When life’s alive in everything
Before new nestlings sing
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track, –
God guides their wing
He spreads their table that they nothing lack, –
Before the daisy grows a common flower
Before the sun has power
To scorch the world up in his noontide hour