Explore "Why the Spring Is Late" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
To Miss Eva Russell.
The spring time is deaf to our pleading, / The meadows are brown as can be. / The hilltops are bleak and unlovely, / No thrush sits and sings on the tree. / I hear many practical people / Explain why the spring loiters so, / But, dear one, they all are mistaken: / The true reason I alone know.