Ah! Did You Ever Hear The Spring

Ah! did you ever hear the Spring
    Calling you through the snow,
Or hear the little blackbird sing
    Inside its egg - or go
To that green land where grass begins,
    Each tiny seed, to grow?

O have you heard what none has heard,
    Or seen what none has seen;
O have you been to that strange land
    Where no one else has been!

Richard Le Gallienne

Richard Le Gallienne was an English author and poet born on January 20, 1866. Known for his lyrical poetry, he was a key figure in the literary circles of the fin de siècle. He contributed to the literary magazine 'The Yellow Book' and was involved with the Rhymers' Club, an influential group of London-based poets. His works often explored themes of beauty, love, and nature. His influence extended to both sides of the Atlantic, and he spent the latter part of his life in the United States, where he continued to write until his death on September 15, 1947.

Richard Le Gallienne

Lovers

Richard Le Gallienne, Simple Poetry

Young Love XIII - Met Once More

Richard Le Gallienne, Simple Poetry

The Friend

Richard Le Gallienne, Simple Poetry

At Her Feet

Richard Le Gallienne, Simple Poetry

English

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An Ode To Spring (To Grant And Nellie Allen)

Is it the Spring?
    Or are the birds all wrong
That play on flute and viol,
    A thousand strong,
In minstrel galleries
    Of the long deep wood,
Epiphanies
    Of bloom and bud.

Grave minstrels those,
    Of deep responsive chant;
But see how yonder goes,
    Dew-drunk, with giddy slant,
Yon Shelley-lark,
    And hark!
Him on the giddy brink
    Of pearly heaven
His fairy anvil clink.

Or watch, in fancy,
    How the brimming note
Falls, like a string of pearls,
    From out his heavenly throat;
Or like a fountain
    In Hesperides,
Raining its silver rain,
    In gleam and chime,
On backs of ivory girls -
    Twice happy rhyme!

Ah, none of these
    May make it plain,
No im...

Richard Le Gallienne

Spring's Promises

When the spring comes again, will you be there?
    Three springs I watched and waited for your face,
And listened for your voice upon the air;
    I sought for you in many a hidden place,
Saying, "She must be there."

"Surely some magic slumber holds her fast,
    She whose blue eyes were morning's earliest flowers,"
I sighed: and, one by one, before me passed
    The rainbowed daughters of the vernal showers,
Saying, "She comes at last."

Ah! broken promise of the world! how fair
    You speak young hearts! In many a wanton word
Of lyric April, each succeeding year,
    By risen flower, and the returning bird,
You vowed to bring back her.

And now the flutes are in the trees once more,
    The violets breathe up through the melting snow,
...

Richard Le Gallienne

Spring.

I am coming, I am coming,
    With my carpet soft and green;
I have spread it o'er the common,
    And a prettier ne'er was seen.

Soon I'll spangle it with clover,
    And the dandelions bright;
You shall pick them in your aprons,
    Yellow, red, and snowy white.

I am coming, and the tree-tops,
    That all winter were so bare,
You shall see, with small leaves covered,
    Wave their branches in the air.

I am coming! Little children,
    Can you tell me who am I?
If not, you will soon remember,
    For I'm just now passing by.

H. P. Nichols

Sounds And Sights

Little leaves, that lean your ears
From each branch and bough of spring,
What is that your rapture hears?
Song of bird or flight of wing,
All so eager, little ears?
"Hush, oh, hush! Oh, don't you hear
Steps of beauty drawing near?
Neither flight of bee nor bird
Hark! the steps of Love are heard!"...
Little buds, that crowd with eyes
Every bush and every tree,
What is this that you surmise?
What is that which you would see,
So attentive, little eyes?
"Look, oh, look! Oh, can't you see
Loveliness camps 'neath each tree?
See her hosts and hear them sing,
Marching with the maiden Spring!"

Madison Julius Cawein

To A Mountain Spring

Strange little spring, by channels past our telling,
Gentle, resistless, welling, welling, welling;
Through what blind ways, we know not whence
You darkling come to dance and dimple -
Strange little spring!
Nature hath no such innocence,
And no more secret thing -
So mysterious and so simple;
Earth hath no such fairy daughter
Of all her witchcraft shapes of water.
When all the land with summer burns,
And brazen noon rides hot and high,
And tongues are parched and grasses dry,
Still are you green and hushed with ferns,
And cool as some old sanctuary;
Still are you brimming o'er with dew
And stars that dipped their feet in you.

And I believe when none is by,
Only the young moon in the sky -
The Greeks of old were right about you -
A nai...

Richard Le Gallienne

The Frozen Stream

Stream that leapt and danced
Down the rocky ledges,
All the summer long,
Past the flowered sedges,
Under the green rafters,
With their leafy laughters,
Murmuring your song:
Strangely still and tranced,
All your singing ended,
Wizardly suspended,
Icily adream;
When the new buds thicken,
Can this crystal quicken,
Now so strangely sleeping,
Once more go a-leaping
Down the rocky ledges,
All the summer long,
Murmuring its song?

Richard Le Gallienne