Explore "In Middle Spring" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ When the fields are rolled into naked gold, / And a ripple of fire and pearl is blent / With the emerald surges of wood and wold / Like a flower-foam bursting violent; / When the dingles and deeps of the woodlands old / Are glad with a sibilant life new sent, / Too rare to be told are the manifold / Sweet fancies that quicken redolent / In the heart that no longer is cold.
/ How it knows of the wings of the hawk that swings / From the drippled dew scintillant seen; / Why the red-bird hides where it sings and sings / In melodious quiverings of green; / How the wind to the red-bud and dogwood brings / Big pearls of worth and corals of sheen, / Whiles he lisps to the strings of a lute that rings / Of love in the South who is queen, / Where the fountain of poesy springs.