Aye! Thou art welcome, Spring’s delicious waking!
Winter kneels before you, gasping its final breath
Meeker still, ever nigh; surrenders to warmer day
Budding tree yawns; the robin sings o’er and o’er
Neath sunny rays; sound of bees. These! Oh these!
In parting, window frost; Winter climbs into bed.
© Literary Remains