What, spring, because a day is fair,
Because a brook is flowing,
Because a maple here and there
A flash of red is showing, Because the frost has lost a tooth,
And ice-packs jar and splinter?
You call it "spring" because, forsooth,
It simply isn't winter! No, spring has gladder signs than these;
I'll know that spring is coming
When lilacs blow, when velvet bees
In apple-boughs are humming, When softer shadows fall aslant
The fragrant meadow mazes:
I'll call it spring when I can plant
One foot on seven daisies.