Read "Fides, Spes" by Willa Cather online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Joy is come to the little / Everywhere; / Pink to the peach and pink to the apple, / White to the pear. / Stars are come to the dogwood, / Astral, pale; / Mists are pink on the red-bud, / Veil after veil. / Flutes for the feathery locusts, / Soft as spray; / Tongues of lovers for chestnuts, poplars, / Babbling May. / Yellow plumes for the willows' / Wind-blown hair; / Oak trees and sycamores only / Comfortless, bare. / Sore from steel and the watching, / Somber and old, / (Wooing robes for the beeches, larches, / Splashed with gold, / Breath of love from the lilacs, / Warm with noon,) / Great hearts cold when the little / Beat mad so soon. / What is their faith to bear it / Till it come, / Waiting with rain-cloud and swallow, / Frozen, dumb?