Explore "Lines Written at a Small Distance from my House, and Sent by my Little Boy to the Person to whom they are Addressed" on Textopian.
It is the first mild day of March: / Each minute sweeter than before, / The Red-breast sings from the tall Larch / That stands beside our door.
There is a blessing in the air, / Which seems a sense of joy to yield / To the bare trees, and mountains bare, / And grass in the green field.