Blossom Time

Spring came with tiny lances thrusting, And earth was clad in peeping green; In russet bark, the twigs incrusting, Tenderest blossom-points were seen; A robin courier proclaimed good cheer: Summer will soon arrive, for I am here. And now from cherry boughs in flower The languid breeze arousing shakes, With every honeyed breath, a shower Of feather snow in drifting flakes; And apple trees in bloom, like ricks of white, Are veiled with smoky, amethystine light. Ah, little soul, on thy first spring Unclosing merry, puzzled eyes, Would that a father’s thought could bring Prophetic counsel more than wise To guide thee as a father’s love would yearn,— Thou hast so much to suffer and to learn! I cannot live thy life for thee, My precepts would be dull and trite, Barren as last year’s leaves to me Beneath the apple blossoms white; But in thy new horizon’s vaster range Our hearts close knit shall feel no chilling change.