, , , , , ,


 The Golden Swallow

    I heard a maiden singing
Down a valley, in the sun—
“April is beginning!
I see the small leaves springing!
And the winter’s done!”

    I saw a golden swallow
Fly up out of the south.
The sunlight seemed to follow
Where he touched hill and hollow
With a gold leaf in his mouth.

    Today new green will cover
Each scar of winter ills.
The night-bird has gone over.
The loved turns to her lover,
And light sweeps the hills!