A Child’s Poem

by Robert Bridges (1844-1930)

Look! Look! The spring is come :

O feel the gentle air,

That wanders thro’ the boughs to burst

The thick buds everywhere !

The birds are glad to see

The high unclouded sun :

Winter is fled away, they sing,

The gay time is begun.

Adown the meadows green

Let us go dance and play,

And look for violets in the lane,

And ramble far away

To gather primroses,

That in the woodland grow,

And hunt for oxslips, or if yet

The blades of blue bells show :

There the old woodman gruff

Hath half the coppice cut,

And weaves the hurdles all day long

Beside his willow hut.

We’ll steal on him, and then

Startle him, all with glee

Singing our song of winter fled

And summer soon to be.