A wind out of heaven o’er holt and lea
Blows the dead ashes of life to a blaze,
And little green flames on hedge and tree
Flicker and shine through the lengthening days.
Summer is coming! The sound of her name
Gives sight to the blind and a voice to the dumb;
Spring is setting the green little buds aflame
To light the way she will come.
And down through the city, by shop and mart,
An Angel passes with hushed footfall--
His coming gladdens the wistful heart
Of a caged thrush hung on an outer wall,
And it sings till the spell of its rapturous song
Brings the field to its bars, and below in the street
Hearing, and mocked with remembrance, the throng
Feel the grass under their feet.
To a touch of the sunlight Death unlocks
His doors, and with laughter Life returns;
In high-walled garden, and window-box,
In square and byway glimmers and burns
Blossom and leaf, as a happier thought
Lights eyes that were sad, for each dull city place
Thrilled as the Angel went past it, and caught
The look that flashed from his face.