Was there another Spring than this?
  I half remember, through the haze
  Of glimmering nights and golden days,
    A broken-pinioned birdling’s note,
    An angry sky, a sea-wrecked boat,
  A wandering through rain-beaten ways!
Lean closer, love—I...

Poet: Helen Hay

If I might see another Spring

   I'd not plant summer flowers and wait:

I'd have my crocuses at once,

My leafless pink mezereons,

   My chill-veined snowdrops, choicer yet

   My white or azure violet,

Leaf...

Poet: