267. The Spring Returns, but Not to Him Returns -
THE SPRING RETURNS, BUT NOT TO HIM RETURNS
The spring returns, the spring wind softly blowing
Sprinkles the grass with gleam and glitter of showers,
Powdering pearl and diamond, dripping with flowers,
Dropping wet flowers, dancing the winter's going;
The swallow twitters, the groves of midnight are glowing
With nightingale music and madness; the sweet fierce powers
Of Love flame up through the earth; the seed-soul towers
And trembles; Nature is filled to overflowing...
The spring returns, but there is no returning
Of spring for me. O heart with anguish burning!
She that unlocked all April in a breath
Returns not... And these meadows, blossoms, birds,
These lovely gentle girls — words, empty words,
As bitter as the black estates of death!
The spring returns, the spring wind softly blowing
Sprinkles the grass with gleam and glitter of showers,
Powdering pearl and diamond, dripping with flowers,
Dropping wet flowers, dancing the winter's going;
The swallow twitters, the groves of midnight are glowing
With nightingale music and madness; the sweet fierce powers
Of Love flame up through the earth; the seed-soul towers
And trembles; Nature is filled to overflowing...
The spring returns, but there is no returning
Of spring for me. O heart with anguish burning!
She that unlocked all April in a breath
Returns not... And these meadows, blossoms, birds,
These lovely gentle girls — words, empty words,
As bitter as the black estates of death!
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