Explore "Springtime" by Georgia Douglas Johnson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Again it is the vibrant May, / The bursting buds, the leafing trees, / The fragrant, undulating breeze, / Call to my heart in subtlest way: / Come! Come! it is a holiday.
The streamlet with unending song, / Beneath its silver veil of mist / Seems flowing, flowing, to some tryst, / While I -- with inner surges strong, / Find incomplete the day, and long.