Classic Poem

Yesterday, upon my word,
Hunting in the wood for spring,
Suddenly I heard a bird
Make the drowsy echoes ring.

And he sang out, “Surely surely,
Lark and thrush are here anon.
I have come along so early
Just to see how things get on.

“Here and there a green leaf's peeping;
Far and near the brooks are heard;
Nature is not dead or sleeping,
Busy she about her word.”

Yesterday, upon my honor,
When I thought the spring was cold,
With her royal robes upon her,
Came the crocus through the mould.

And she whispered, “Was I dreaming,—
Some one seemed to call my name;
Was it real? was it seeming?
I put on my crown and came.”