Classic Poem

Winter is gone, and yet in sunless places
Snow-wraiths of Christmas lurked till yesterday —
Pale stragglers from that pageant far away.
Down cloudy ways one wind another chases,
Whistling mad ditties in averted faces.
Blue lakes of sky to beaches pearly gray
Run brightly dimpling, where flotillas gay
With silken sails leave foam in flying traces.
Wild lights and sounds are hovering everywhere,
Preluding some mysterious revelation.
My mocking bird's one song a thrilling trill is.
He sees a spirit in the ambient air
Sprinkling elixir for the transmutation
Of resurrected leaves to Easter lilies.