Classic Poem

Old Pan came early out one year;
Keen, mean the frost imps nipped his ear,
Shrilling: “What now, mad minstrel clown?
The snow still covers dale and down!”
And old Pan wandered on forlorn,
But his eyes hoped, like the east ere dawn,
Piping a wind-shrill minor tune,
To woo the absent maiden, June,
Till under his blankets yawned the sun,
The frightened snow away did run,
The blackbird piped up clear and strong,
A glad heart-thrilling mating song;
And the violets bloomed with never a fear,
For Spring came early, too, that year.