Classic Poem

I hope there's Spring in Heaven —
A day when there is seen
A first, faint flush of green,
And when I'll feel the air
And soil stirring everywhere,
And a bluebird is awing,
And a lilac blossoming,
O, when I get to Heaven I hope I'll find Spring!

And when I get to Heaven I shall leave the golden street,
And the strange trees growing,
And the strange river flowing.
I shall try to find my way
To the meadows of the sky,
The cool, green places where the Lord comes by,
Walking in a garden as He walked in Paradise
When men spoke to Him and saw Him with their eyes;
And I shall say,
" Where do the dogtooth violets grow? "
And He will know. I am sure that He will know!

The heavenly asphodels
Have radiant, scented bells,
And tall white lilies grow
By the Throne of God, I know.
Poets have told me so!
But I know that I shall be
Homesick to smell and see
Sweet arbutus and the pale anemone.

When I get to Heaven
I want little, swollen streams,
And silver, dripping gleams
Of linden fringes shining in an April sun,
And little boy angels cutting whistles there,
Yellow willow whistles that will pierce the trembling air
With small, sharp calls,
That will strike the jeweled walls
And echo, gleaming, streaming in a shrill melody,
Little boy angels, piping joyously,
Crying Spring! Spring! Spring!