The swallows in their torpid state
Compose their useless wing,
And bees in hives as idly wait
The call of early spring.
The keenest frost that binds the stream,
The wildest wind that blows,
Are neither felt nor fear’d by them,
Secure of their repose.
But man, all feeling and awake,
The gloomy scene surveys;
With present ills his heart must ache,
And pant for brighter days.
Old winter, halting o’er the mead,
Bids me and Mary mourn;
But lovely spring peeps o’er his head,
And whispers your return.
Then April, with her sister May,
Shall chase him from the bow’rs,
And weave fresh garlands ev’ry day,
To crown the smiling hours.
And, if a tear, that speaks regret
Of happier times, appear,
A glimpse of joy, that we have met,
Shall shine, and dry the tear.
—————
The End
And that’s the End of the Poem
© Poetry Monster, 2021.
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Some external links: The Bat’s Poetry Cave. — Fledermaus’s poetry site. Talking Writing Monster. — the irreverent and irrelevant chatter on subjects both serious and not quite. A free for all board. You can scribble anything on it without registration (but it doesn’t let spammers in). You can even post your poems. Qwant.com. — a search engine from France. It’s an alternative because there are a few alternatives, like Bing, Duckduckgo, and Ecosia. And there is Yandex, the ultimate language-oriented search engine for the Russophone world. Commercial Links: Russian Commerce – the foreign trade assistance agency Other links: Poems and poetry in Russian (if you are reading this in English, as you obviously are, then you’d have to switch the language, the language switch is on the menu. More on languages)