Poems: SONNET -- IN FEBRUARY by Alice Meynell

Rich meanings of the prophet-Spring adorn, / Unseen, this colourless sky of folded showers, / And folded winds; no blossom in the bowers. / A poet's face asleep is this grey morn.

Now in the midst of the old world forlorn / A mystic child is set in these still hours. / I keep this time, even before the flowers, / Sacred to all the young and the unborn;

To all the miles and miles of unsprung wheat, / And to the Spring waiting beyond the portal, / And to the future of my own young art,

And, among all these things, to you, my sweet, / My friend, to your calm face and the immortal / Child tarrying all your life-time in your heart.