Songs of the Sea Children

by Bliss Carman




This is the time of the golden bough, 
The April ardour, the mystic fire, 
And the soft wind up from the South, 
Lingering, rainy, and warm, 
Dissolving sorrow and bidding new life aspire,— 

New spirit take form,— 
Through the waking green earth now.

This is the time of the golden tress, 
The heaving heart and the shining glance, 
And the little head that bows

Meekly to love at last. 
Then two behold the flowery world in a trance 
Through the spring's new vast 
Of sunshine and tenderness.