A March Glee, by John Burroughs

A March Glee

I hear the wild geese honking
From out the misty night, --
A sound of moving armies
On-sweeping in their might;
The river ice is drifting
Beneath their northward flight.   I hear the bluebird plaintive
From out the morning sky,
Or see his wings a-twinkle
That with the azure vie;
No other bird more welcome,
No more prophetic cry.   I hear the sparrow's ditty
Anear my study door;
A simple song of gladness
That winter days are o'er;
My heart is singing with him,
I love him more and more.   I hear the starling fluting
His liquid "O-ka-lee; "
I hear the downy drumming,
His vernal reveillé
From out the maple orchard
The nuthatch calls to me.   Oh, spring is surely coming,
Her couriers fill the air;
Each morn are new arrivals,
Each night her ways prepare;
I scent her fragrant garments,
Her foot is on the stair.

poems.one - John Burroughs

John Burroughs