Poetry of E.Nesbit: Song (1888)

by Anna Blanch on February 21, 2011

This is a song for Spring, or a Spring-song…
SOFT is the ground underfoot,
Soft are the skies overhead,
Green is the ivy round brown hedge root,
Green is the moss where we tread.
Purple the woods are, and brown;
The blackbird is glossy and sleek.
He knows that the worms are no more kept down
By frost out of reach of his beak.
Grey are the sheep in the fold,
Tired of their turnip and beet.
Dreaming of meadow, and pasture, and wold.
And turf the warm rain will make sweet.
Leaves sleep, no bud wakens yet,
But we know by the song of the sun,
And the happy way that the world smiles, wet.
That the Spring— oh, be glad !—is begun.
What stirs the heart of the tree ?
What stirs the seed the earth bears ?
What is it stirring in you and in me ?
Longing for Summer, like theirs ?—
Longing you cannot explain,
Yearning that baffles me still!
Ah ! that each Spring should bring longings again
No Summer can ever fulfil!
E. Nesbit.
Anna M  Blanch is founder of Goannatree, and a PhD candidate in the Institute of Theology, Imagination, and the Arts at St Mary’s College, University of St Andrews, Scotland. She is writing her doctoral thesis on E.Nesbit. She is also a regular contributor to Transpositions.

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