Classic Poem

The Piper Spring
Has come once more
With his dapple green investiture;
His great cloak pied with petal and wing,
And his red locks spangling everything.

But after the gold
And after the green,
And all the treasures that lie between,
He laughed and plucked from a hidden fold
A magic flower of dusk and gold.

Oh, what have you done,
You Piper Spring?
You have robbed my wits of everything,
And nothing remains beneath the sun
But the wild, sweet rose that I have won!