6. The First Day of Spring
I wonder if the sap is stirring yet,
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,
if frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun
And crocus fires are kindling one by one:
Sing, robin, sing:
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring.
I wonder if the Springtide of this year
Will bring another Spring both lost and dear;
if heart and spirit will find out their Spring,
Or if the world alone will bud and sing:
Sing, hope, to me;
Sweet notes, my hopes, soft notes for memory.
The sap will surely quicken soon or late,
The tardiest bird will twitter to a mate;
So Spring must dawn again with warmth and bloom,
Or in this world or in the world to come:
Sing, voice of Spring,
Till I too blossom and rejoice and sing.
Christina Rosetti
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