TO A GARDEN IN APRIL

Alas, and are you pleading now for pardon?

Spring came by night--and so there was no telling?

Spring had his way with you, my little garden....

You hide in leaf, but oh! your buds are swelling.

_The Trend_ _Walter Conrad Arensberg_

Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1914 · 第 19 / 149 题