Explore "Spring Quiet" by Christina Georgina Rossetti on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Gone were but the Winter, / Come were but the Spring, / I would go to a covert / Where the birds sing;
Where in the white-thorn / Singeth a thrush, / And a robin sings / In the holly-bush.
Full of fresh scents / Are the budding boughs, / Arching high over / A cool green house:
Full of sweet scents, / And whispering air / Which sayeth softly: / "We spread no snare;
"Here dwell in safety, / Here dwell alone, / With a clear stream / And a mossy stone.
"Here the sun shineth / Most shadily; / Here is heard an echo / Of the far sea, / Though far off it be. "