Explore "Spring" by Oliver Herford on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
By his cold hearth, sans Youth, sans Mirth, / Sits poor old shivering Daddy Earth.
A knock, a footstep on the floor. / "Come in! " he growls -- "and _shut that door_!"
Two soft hands on his eyelids press; / A laughing voice: "Who am I? -- guess!"
"Tis Mistress Spring! Alas, my dear, / You find me sadly changed, I fear."
"Cheer up! " cried Spring, "I bring for you / The Spell of Youth: Gold -- Silver -- Blue."
Sun gold, sky turquoise, silver rain, / And Daddy Earth was young again!
He danced, he sang: "Hail Spring divine! / Ethereal Spring -- h'm -- _wine? -- pine -- shine? _"
Too late the rhyme popped in his head; / "Be _mine_! " he sang -- but Spring had fled.