Alice Brown: Candlemas


Alice Brown

   O hearken, all ye little weeds     That lie beneath the snow, (So low, dear hearts, in poverty so low!)    The sun hath risen for royal deeds,    A valiant wind the vanguard leads;    Now quicken ye, lest unborn seeds     Before ye rise and blow.
   O furry living things, adream     On winter's drowsy breast, (How rest ye there, how softly, safely rest!)    Arise and follow where a gleam    Of wizard gold unbinds the stream,    And all the woodland windings seem     With sweet expectance blest.
   My birds, come back! the hollow sky     Is weary for your note. (Sweet-throat, come back!  O liquid, mellow throat!)    Ere May's soft minions hereward fly,    Shame on ye, laggards, to deny    The brooding breast, the sun-bright eye,     The tawny, shining coat!